O Wolves of Memory
by Samixa
Summary: Remus Lupin's 6th year is far from simple. With war raging both inside and outside Hogwart's walls, Slytherins meeting Death Eaters and the Ministry's new Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme there's certainly trouble afoot. And why is Sirius acting so odd?
1. The Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme

1.

The front door slammed behind Remus Lupin as he left his parents' cottage, strode across the front garden and down towards the beach. The steady crash of waves and the distant squawking of gulls was a welcome assault on his ears after the oppressive silence of the cottage. Really, any noise would be welcome to him just now – even a Banshee or the sound of James singing in the shower – anything but his parents' deafening silence and their long-suffering sighs.

He knew he shouldn't be too surprised by their reaction. He knew that disagreements with the parents were par for the course for any teenager, especially if said teenager was stranded in the middle of nowhere on the Scottish coastline, with no neighbours for a thirty mile radius and only the occasional owl to break the monotony. Though, Remus thought ruefully, most teenager's arguments didn't involve them having to give up their civil liberties in order for their parents to receive financial aid.

He was nearer the shoreline now, could see the bubbles in the surf as it washed over the stony beach. Remus stooped to pick up a pebble – felt it smooth and round against his palm – and hurled it into the pewter-grey sea. Far off in the distance he could see a Muggle fishing trawler silhouetted against the horizon, seagulls swarming around it hoping for some stray catch.

Remus shivered and rubbed at his arms wishing he had grabbed a jacket before he left the cottage.

Spending the summer holidays here was never something he particularly looked forward to. After nine months at Hogwarts filled with the hustle and bustle of lessons, Quidditch matches and, of course, series of escalating pranks, wars on the Slytherins and unsolicited trips to Hogsmeade, returning back to his parents' house and with their strained silences was akin to entering another, soundless universe.

Like every other year, his mother and father had been waiting for him on Platform nine and three-quarters when he arrived off the Hogwarts Express at the start of the summer holidays. Like every other year, Remus would took a moment to be thankful that they had at least come to meet him, as Sirius was left to navigate Muggle public transport to find his way home; his own mother and Regulus had left Kings Cross without him once again.

Elena Lupin tremulously hugged her son, the smell of her cheap perfume filling Remus's nostrils. She was wearing the same threadbare cardigan she had worn for as long as he could remember, but this year the dark bags that circled her eyes were new. She looked strained, Remus thought, as though she had been pinched too hard for too long and he felt a sudden flash of guilt as he embraced his mother. John Lupin clapped Remus good-naturedly on the shoulder with a gruff "Good to see you, son." His work robes were woebegone, beginning to fray at the cuffs, and he avoided looking at his son in the eye for too long. Next to Mr and Mrs Potter with their warm, enthusiastic greetings and smart robes that spoke of old pureblood money, his parents looked like fragile and faded leaf specimens that had been shut away for too long and were beginning to crumble.

But Remus could hardly blame his parents for their dishevelled appearances. For as long as mind could be stretched back, his parents had been pouring any gold they had into some 'breakthrough' cure or 'revolutionary' new treatment for his Lycanthropy. Every holiday from Hogwarts would be spent with Remus taking some new potion or being poked and prodded by some quack shamans who ruthlessly drained his parents' bank balance with the promise that they would rid their son of his Lycanthropy.

Of course, it never worked. The potion would have to undergo some 'tweaking' or, luckily for the quacks, some clause in the Ministry's Ban on Experimental Breeding Act would be brought to their attention and they would pack up their offices and disappear into the night, pockets full of gold, never to be heard from again.

This summer, however, had been different. Remus's parents didn't want to take him to meet any shifty Warlocks or visit some dodgy Healer's clinic in Knockturn Alley. This summer's desperate, fruitless attempt at finding a cure was "completely legitimate and above board," his mother informed him, three weeks into the summer holiday. "It's Ministry approved" she said, eyes shining enthusiastically.

Remus was sitting at the scrubbed kitchen table, the morning's _Daily Prophet _–_ GIANTS GO ON RAMPAGE; TERROR SWEEPS THE NATION _screamed the front page headline – and half drunk mugs of cooling tea littered the table. The grandfather clock was chiming in the hall, when his parents decided to broach their proposition.

"It's a fantastic opportunity, Remus dear," his mother said, sitting across the table from him. "A godsend. Just think how much safer your transformations will be. Under supervision of St Mungo's healers - if anything goes wrong they'll be there on the spot to help you. You know the dangers will increase now you're almost fully grown, surely that alone is reason enough to follow the scheme?"

Remus forced himself to keep his voice calm and mildly interested, "And what are they calling it? The Ministry, I mean, what do they call this scheme?"

There was the briefest pause then, just enough to let the underlying tensions in the room double. The grandfather clock sounded its final chime.

"The – eh – the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme," his father mumbled from where he was standing over by the window.

"_Rehabilitation_," Remus echoed in a hollow tone.

"It's just a name, Remus," his mother said quickly. "The scheme is for werewolves from all sorts of backgrounds and circumstances. Some haven't been as… let's say_ fortunate_ as you have, and for them the scheme also helps them to… _adjust _to normal living conditions."

Remus squirmed guiltily in his seat at this. He focused on counting the number of cup rings he could see on the table's surface and tried to quell the tangle emotions rising within him at these words.

"The Department sent us an information pack. It explains it everything the scheme will involve." His mother produced a purple pamphlet from her lap, emblazoned with the Ministry of Magic crest and a picture of a witch and wizard – clearly not werewolves themselves – smiling toothily up at him.

Remus took the pamphlet and glanced through it's contents. Certain phrases caught his eye: 'daily monitoring', 'for the protection of the greater wizarding society', 'supervised transformations', 'increased control and more opportunities for those that comply with the Ministry guidelines'.

He thrust the pamphlet down onto the table, a sickening feeling clenching his stomach.

"What the –" Remus took a deep breath to steady his voice. "I don't understand. The Ministry wants us to transform under supervision on their premises. They want to – want to_ help_ us… Why now?"

His eyes fell on the _Daily Prophet _headline and felt as though his insides had turned to lead. Of course that was why…

"Remus," his mother said gently, "this is the chance we've been searching for all these years. Not only will your transformations be supervised, but you'll be first in line should any new treatments become available. When I think about - if this had been available years ago -" she broke off then and looked to her husband for support.

John Lupin cleared his throat, "Son, I know this may seem a bit daunting, but I spoke to Wilhemina in the Department and she says you can go at anytime for a look around the centre. It's nice. Located in the lowest floor of the Ministry, it's much quieter down there, more private, you could come and go without anyone noticing you if that troubles you."

"Which Division is it in?" Remus asked curtly. "The Beast or the Being Division?"

His parents exchanged glances.

"The Beast Division," his father said, eyes fixed on some spot above Remus's head. "But that doesn't necessarily mean–"

"The Beast," Remus snapped, some of his anger spilling over into his voice. "Tell me, why would they locate a scheme that's designed to help werewolves_ integrate_ into _normal_ society in that division? Would that not be more suitable in the Being Division? Or is that they just want to coop us all up where they can keep an eye on us for the 'protection of the greater wizarding society' as though we can't be trusted?" He broke off when he realised he was shouting.

The was silence in the small kitchen. His parents both looked a bit shocked by his sudden outburst and Remus felt a blush creep up on his cheeks.

His mother recovered first.

"Think, dear," she said, laying a comforting hand on his forearm, "the dangers in your transformation will increase now you're getting older. The Ministry are reaching out a hand to help you. This isn't about the money, we just want you to be safe."

"The money?"

His parents exchanged nervous glances.

"There's a monthly subsidy for those who comply with the scheme," his father explained. "It's not a huge amount, a few galleons, but it's something. There's the opportunity for additional payment if you help the Healer's in their research, you know, tests and that kind of stuff. Nothing too intense, I daresay, but it's an opportunity son. You never know what the Healers might discover with your help."

"You have to think about your future, Remus," his mother said. "It can't hurt to put some money aside for the future."

But it wasn't just the sudden interference from the Ministry that troubled Remus. If he did what his parents wanted him to do, if he complied with the Rehabilitation Scheme, it would mean no more full moons in the Shrieking Shack. How could he tell the rest of the Marauders that they would no longer be able to transform with him, after all they had done for him. They had finally succeeded in their Animagi transformations last year, and since then they had spent four full moon nights together. Easily some of the best times of Remus's life. He thought of James's shock, Peter's disappointment and Sirius – Sirius's anger. He couldn't go through with this scheme not just for his own sake, but for his friends' as well.

His eye caught the the _Daily Prophet_ headline again, and he felt a sudden stab of anger towards his parent's for their naivety. Could they really not see what was before their very eyes?

Remus chose his words carefully, fighting to keep his voice level.

"Doesn't it seem - _odd_ - that the Ministry is only reaching out now. After all these years, they've decided that now's the right time to reach out and offer help, when they have ignored us for years."

"What are you trying to say, Remus," his father said, a note of warning in his voice.

"That this scheme isn't a good thing. That it's not about _rehabilitation _ but about keeping all us werewolves under supervision. Look at the Giants," he said, grabbing the newspaper and holding out the front page so they could see the headline. "The Ministry's in a panic. They don't know where all the werewolves and other dark creatures are. They've spent so much time shunning us that they're now in a panic trying to round us up so we can be monitored and make sure we don't go on the _rampage_ with Voldemort too."

"Remus –" his mother stated to say, her voice higher than normal, but he cut her off.

"No, look, I can't do this. This scheme it isn't true, it's lies. I won't through with it, I just can't."

And with that both his parents had clammed up and refused to say another word for the rest of the day yesterday. Remus could bear the silent treatment for so long, after all he didn't feel the need to constantly talk to someone like Sirius and James did, but he had hoped that this morning his parents might have relented in their stubborn silence. But when he came down to the kitchen this morning there was no "Good morning, son" just a cold silence.

Well, he thought, he was as well versed in the silent treatment too, so he left the cottage without a word.

And now here he was. Looking back over his shoulder towards Lupin Cottage, Remus could see that he had walked quite far along the beach. Ahead there was only more empty, desolate coastline stretching on for miles around the Scottish headland. He sighed and kicked at some of the stones under his feet.

The last couple of weeks had been like living his life in non-stop free-fall. It seemed like every other day the _Prophet_ would report another worrying article about the actions of Lord Voldemort and his followers. Last month there had been a spate of horrific Muggle attacks in West Yorkshire, and it seemed that no one knew who to turn to for help. The Ministry was floundering; the sudden increase in frequency and violence in Voldemort's attacks was too much for them cope with, and there were repeated calls for the Minister for Magic, Edmir Gillespie, to resign as a result of the continued incompetence his Ministry was showing.

Remus remembered visiting Diagon Alley last year, and remembered that even back then there was increased fear amongst the community, even in just their day to day lives. Shoppers on the busy street wouldn't stop as long to talk to each other, and certainly not to strangers. The animosity toward Muggleborns had also increased, with Lily Evans been sneered at by a particularly spiteful old wizard in the middle of the street in broad daylight.

The fear had even reached Hogwarts, as more people cancelled their _Witch Weekly _subscription in exchange to keep up with events reported in the _Daily Prophet_. The usual Gryffindor-Slytherin animosity had reached new heights in the last couple of months of the Marauders' fifth year, with old House rivalries being replaced by a totally new level of hatred that had not been there before. What had before been mostly harmless schoolboy pranks and duels were escalating rapidly into vicious attacks.

And it wasn't just the Slytherins that had been playing dirty in the final months of fifth year…

Remus abruptly turned on his heel and walked toward the water's edge. The muggle fishing trawler was now a faint pinprick against the dark, cloudy waves crept up over the tops of his trainers, the cold water seeping through his thick socks.

Almost two months had passed since Sirius had sent Snape down under the Willow, and though his initial anger had passed, Remus still felt uneasy whenever the subject crossed his mind. Yes, he had been angry at Sirius, furious in fact, but now more than anything he just wanted things to go back to normal between them. During the final few weeks of fifth year, Remus felt that they were merely acting out their respective roles for the sake of rest of the group. Pretending that everything was back to normal in the hope that it would return that way. Remus wondered if it ever would, if their friendship really had been pushed too far and was now broken beyond repair…

But no, he remembered how Sirius looked the day after the deed. Remus had been lying in the Hospital Wing and when he had awoken to see James's tired, anxious face hovering beside him he knew instinctively that something bad had happened. James had smiled tensely at Remus and squeezed his wrist briefly. As he stood up to leave he said only the words "He's awake" to Sirius, who Remus then noticed, standing over by the window looking out over the grounds.

It was one of the longest silences Remus ever had to endure, if his throat wasn't so raw from the previous night's transformation he would certainly have broken it sooner, but something about the way Sirius's shoulders were hunched and the way he wouldn't face Remus made him wait it out.

Eventually, Sirius had turned to face him, guilt in his features, and the whole story came pouring out. Sirius had had been taunting Snape. Had used _Remus _to taunt Snape. Sent him down to Willow. Snape had seen Moony, he knew Remus's secret. Snape had been in Dumbledore's office all morning, and had sworn to the Headmaster that he would tell no one.

Remus doesn't know how it happened, but the next thing he remembered was Madam Pomfrey shrieking, and suddenly James was back in the ward and together they pulled Remus away from Sirius back to his bed. He didn't understand why there was so much blood. Through blurred vision he saw Sirius, more blood streaming down his face from what was clearly a badly broken nose. Remus felt his right hand throbbing and when he looked down he saw that his own knuckles were covered in the blood too. James was saying something to him but his voice sounded warped as though he were at the end of a very long tunnel. Remus felt suddenly light-headed and fell back against his pillow as the world went black and he passed out.

* * *

The rain had started pour now. Big, thick bullet drops hammered down on Remus as he ran back to the cottage, feet squelching inside his wet trainers. He ran across the garden and pulled open the back door into the kitchen.

His mother was still sitting at the kitchen table, and when he met her tired, wearied eyes he felt something resolve inside him.

"Remus! Look at you, you're soaked through! Come and I'll–"

"I'll do it, Mum." he said.

"What?" she asked, not understanding. "Do what?"

"The scheme, the Rehabilitation Scheme, I'll do it." he took a deep breath. "You're right, you and dad, it _is_ a great opportunity and I'm going to do it."

"Oh, Remus!" his mother cried and pulled his soaking self into a tight embrace. It was then that an idea occurred to him.

"Mum," he said, trying gently to extricate himself from his mother's arms, "just promise me something?"

"What, Remus?"

"Promise me you and dad won't spend anymore money trying to look for a cure. Promise me you'll use dad's next paycheque to buy something for yourselves – some new clothes, or go on that trip to Rome that you've always talked about. I mean it."

"Okay. Yes, we will." Elena Lupin smiled, dried her eyes on the sleeve of her cardigan. "Look at us," she laughed, "we're both soaked through! You go up and get changed, and I'll floo your father at the office – he'll be delighted when he hears."

With one last smile, Remus headed up the stairs to his bedroom, wet feet slip-sliding on the floor as he went. His room had once been the attic of the small cottage and was quite cramped, but Remus liked the sloping ceiling and the way the light poured through the small round dormer window. There was something perched on the other side of this window right now, blocking the light from entering the room and as Remus approached near he recognised the soggy mass of grey feathers as Oberon, James's owl.

He unlatched the window and stepped aside to let Oberon enter the shelter of his room. The owl landed on the back of Remus's desk chair and huffed slightly, puffing out his feathers to shake the worst of the rain from them. He extended his leg and allowed Remus to untie the leather pouch in which was a tightly scrolled letter.

Remus unfurled the letter and recognised James's curly penmanship, and sat down in his bed to read its contents:

_Moony,_

_How's your summer been? It's been crap weather down here, I haven't been able to practice Quidditch at all._

_Anyway, I'll get right to the point: last night Sirius left home, for good this time. _

_He's here just now and is probably going to stay with me for the rest of the summer._

_How do you feel about meeting us in Diagon Alley next Friday. You know I _

_can't stand a sulking Padfoot for too long, and Pete's already said he was planning _

_on going to Diagon Alley that day anyway. So, you up for it? _

_Send word back with Oberon and we'll see you soon!_

_Cheers,_

_Prongs_

Remus chuckled at James being blunt and to the point as usual, and was just about to write his reply when he saw that a postscript had been scrawled at the bottom in Sirius's handwriting:

_P.S. Hey Remus, didn't realise this git was writing to you until he told me to go get Oberon for him. I swear, just because it's his house he thinks he can treat me like the house elf, though that hardly makes much of a change from the norm. Anyway, at the risk of sounding pathetic, __please__ come to Diagon Alley next week. All James can talk about is his new plan to woo Evans and I'm in dire need of some proper conversation._

_- Sirius_

For the first time since he'd returned home, Remus felt a genuine grin spread over his face.


	2. Black Eyes and Bad Tempers

**Author's Note:** I'd just like to say a huge thanks to all those who reviewed the first chapter. You really inspired me to carry on.

Also, be warned, teenage boys like to swear a lot. If that offends you, don't read!

2.

Remus stumbled gracelessly out of the fireplace and into the Leaky Cauldron. Shaking the soot and floo powder from his clothes, he glanced around the pub's dingy interior and spotted James, Sirius and Peter sitting in a booth beside the door to the Muggle street outside. The pub was very dark, the only light was coming from the candles that were burning on each of the tables scattered around the room. The floor was slightly slippery, as it had been worn smooth from the hundreds of magical feet that had made the journey to Diagon Alley over the centuries. Tom the barman nodded to Remus in greeting before returning to mediate between two old warlocks sitting at the bar, who had got into an argument over playing cards

"Moony!" cried James when he spotted Remus weaving his way around the tables towards them. "How are you mate?"

"I'm pretty good, yeah. How about you?"

"I'm absolutely great, thanks for asking. I say, it's great us all being together again – Marauders reunited!"

Remus tried hard not to snigger when he caught Sirius and Peter rolling their eyes at James's ridiculously effusive manner. The greeting certainly made a change from James's usual punch on the arm and 'where-the-hell-have-you-been?' style of greeting. _Maybe he's finally taking Lily's advice to grow up a little_, Remus thought to himself.

He sat down in the booth beside Peter. Across from him, Sirius was moodily slouching in his seat. He passed Remus an unopened Butterbeer, and Remus was somewhat taken aback to see a huge black eye glowing lividly around Sirius' left eye. That combined with his newly crooked nose gave him the appearance of someone who had been through the wars.

"So, Remus, I was just telling these two gits: _I_ know how to win Evans. I have a foolproof plan for this year," James said, ignoring Sirius loud huff of disgust and Peter's amused snort.

"Oh, yeah?" said Remus lightly, avoiding the other two's eyes.

"Yep, my plan is this: whatever she wants me to do, I do it. No more bickering, I'll just be pleasant, you know. Kinda like you, I guess. I'll make sure I'm always around when she needs help –"

"Well, that definitely won't come across as being obsessed," muttered Peter under his breath.

Give it two months and she'll see that she's been wrong about me all along," he continued, not hearing Peter's remark. "_That's_ when I make my move, and she'll be unable to resist – we'll be going out by Christmas."

He paused as his words were drowned out by the furious shouts of the arguing warlocks a the bar.

"And Lily's coming to Diagon Alley today," he continued in a louder voice, "so stage one of the plan is to wait here until she shows up and then help her with her shopping. So, what do you think, Moony?"

"Well, James," began Remus, thinking how best to phrase his opinion tactfully, "I don't think Lily's the kind of girl who'll want help with everything... she's pretty independent, you know."

"Nonsense, all girls want a man to help them."

"And how do you know she's going to be here today?" said Remus, figuring it was probably best to let James figure out that pitfall in his plan in his own time.

"Well, Lily told Mary MacDonald, who told Alice, who told Frank, who told me," explained James proudly.

"You know in some countries this _plan_ would be viewed as harassment, Potter," said Sirius darkly.

Just then the door to the Muggle world opened, spilling clean bright light into the grotty pub. In walked Lily, accompanied by a tall pale girl Remus didn't recognised, but assumed from previous conversations with Lily that it must be Petunia, her older sister.

When Lily spotted the Marauders by the door, she rolled her eyes exasperatedly at James's goofy grin and smiled at Remus, before continuing through the pub to the back door where the archway to Diagon Alley was concealed.

Unsurprisingly, James got up to follow, but so, to Remus's surprise, did Peter.

"Where are_ you_ going, Wormtail?" said Sirius harshly. "I don't think you, Prongs and Lily would make a very attractive threesome."

"Mildred Malarkey's meeting Lily, and she invited me along too," Peter said defiantly, as though daring Sirius to laugh.

Remus braced himself for whatever vicious retort Sirius would come out with, but instead, to his relief, Sirius just gave a rueful smile and said "Well, good luck with that, Pete." And so Peter left, trailing in James's wake.

That left Sirius and Remus alone.

Sirius huffed again and slouched further down in his seat. Remus was sure that Sirius must use some sort of sticking charm on himself, such was his ability to slouch and defy the laws of gravity.

"You know, not many people can make a sulk look as good as you can."

"Appealing to my vanity will get you nowhere, Lupin," Sirius said. Nevertheless he looked slightly happier as he pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket, offering one to Remus (who refused) before lighting up himself.

"So," Remus said gesturing to Sirius's eye, as Sirius lit his cigarette in the candle that was burning on the table, "you want to tell me how you got that shiner?"

Sirius sat up, a mischievous spark lighting the eye that wasn't puffed up, "Well, it began with me rescuing a damsel in distress from a gang of brutal vagrants who beat me mercilessly, but not before I blasted every one of them back to the Dark Ages. The fair maiden repaid me _most _indulgently for my troubles, and swore she could never love another man but me for as long as she lived."

Remus raised his eyebrows sceptically.

"Regulus," spat Sirius, the dark cloud settling over him again.

Remus said nothing, knowing that Sirius would tell him in his own time. On the other side of the pub the two arguing warlocks began grappling with each other, toppling over barstools and chairs as Tom leapt over the bar to separate them.

"Mother was trying to fix me up with some 'appropriate' pureblood fiancee again," Sirius began bitterly. "She was going on and on about how I had to uphold the Black family honour by knocking up this suitable girl so the bloodline will continue and all that crap. Father was trying to set me up with a position in the Magical Law Enforcement office, following in his noble footsteps. Not that it mattered to them that I didn't want any of that fucked-up shit, not like they give a damn about what _I_ want to do in my own life – so I just decided enough's enough and I left. But not before _h_e stuck his big nose in. I swear, Remus, the way he just swallows all their Pureblood shit…"

He drained the last of his Butterbeer.

"Anyway, fuck them. Fuck the whole stinking lot of them. I'm gone and I'm not _ever _going back to that house, so Regulus can be what he always wanted and be the heir, and join the fucking Death Eaters for all I care."

He slammed the empty bottle down on the table, wrist shaking slightly.

A few moments of silence passed between them, and it was clear to Remus that Sirius wasn't going to say anything more on the subject. Tom the barman, having successfully thrown the two warlocks from the premises, returned to cleaning his goblets with the air of a man who was tired of cleaning up other people's messes.

"Come on, brave soldier" Remus said cajolingly, as Sirius dejectedly stubbed his fag out on the already scorched-marked table. "Let's do some shopping. Apparently retail therapy works wonders."

Sirius smirked, "You are such a girl_,_ Moony," but he followed Remus out of the pub nevertheless.

* * *

They both blinked in the bright sunlight of the street outside. Diagon Alley was teeming with shoppers from all walks of magical life. Remus saw a group of uniformed Gringotts goblins talking on a corner outside the bank, glancing about them shiftily. There were new first-years with what were clearly Muggle parents, running around the shops with unconcealed amazement. Owls zoomed low over people's heads as they left the post-office, and up and down the street market traders were calling out offers to shoppers as they passed by.

"Bicorn horns, two for five galleons."

"Hats for sale! All the way from Paris! Ladies, get you hats 'ere!"

Remus needed to get himself some new robes, so they turned away from Gringotts and headed down to the other end of the street. They were followed by an annoying flying advert, a rather genius cross between a howler and a paper aeroplane, which babbled incessantly advertising a start of term book sale at Flourish and Blotts.

"I hate these bloody things!" shouted Sirius, as he danced around on the spot trying to swat the twittering advert away.

"_Incendio_," cried Remus, and the advert caught fire and started coughing and wheezing, eventually shrivelling up before them.

"Nice one, Moony," said Sirius admiringly.

They reached Madam Malkin's robe shop, and as they stepped through the door a bell tinkled announcing their arrival. Madam Malkin came bustling out from the back room, her black hair brushed up into a tight knot on the top her head and a tape measure slung around her neck.

"Well," she said briskly, clapping her stubby hands together, "how can I help you gentlemen today?"

Remus explained that he had outgrown his old robes and needed to be fitted for new ones.

"Right, if you'd just step up on this stool Mr Lupin, I'll take your measurements."

And with that she set about directing her tape measure while talking animatedly about how glad she was that some young folk still frequented her shop, rather than visiting Gladrags down the street.

"… and I know that you young folk like to keep up with the fashion, but, really, does fashion really beat quality? You know, boys, they do everything completely by magic down at Gladrags, no human supervision at all. My niece, Lucianne, bought a cloak from there the other week and it just split apart at the seam before she had even worn it for a full day. 'Lucianne,' I said, 'that's what you get for choosing looks over substance, and long may you remember that!'."

"I completely agree, Madam," said Sirius enthusiastically, from behind her. "You just don't get the personal touch from them, loses all quality in my opinion."

"That's exactly what I've said, Mr Black!" said the squat little witch, "You know I sew all my hems by hand, _by hand, _gentlemen, and those folk down at Gladrags wouldn't know a needle if they sat on it!"

"Well, it certainly shows, Madam," said Sirius in his most flirtatious voice. "I could never go for any robes but yours."

The squat little witch blushed to the roots of her hair as Sirius flashed her his trademark grin that had sent more than half the girls in Hogwarts swooning for him, "Oh, Mr Black, you're such a charmer!"

The rest of the fitting continued in this vein. Madam Malkin continued to explain the finer points in the art in robe-making, while Sirius made a series of lewd gestures behind her, and Remus tried his best not to laugh. Stifling one particularly violent burst of laughter, Remus bumped against Madam Pomfrey's arm and caused her to narrowly avoid stabbing herself in the eye with her needle. "Sorry," said Remus, "hiccups."

"Well, that's you done Mr Lupin." she said a few minutes later, draping her tape measure back around her neck. "If you'll just come over to the till and I'll calculate the cost for you."

She insisted upon sending Remus's new robes to his home by express owl delivery free of charge. When Remus tried to protest she said "It's the least I can do for two charming young gentlemen who care so much about the quality of robes. I must insist, Mr Lupin."

Five minutes later, Remus and Sirius left the shop.

"You are unbelievable!" Remus cried as Sirius smirked broadly. "You can charm the pants off anyone."

"Everyone, but dear old Minerva," he said pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. "But we have two years left and I'm making it my mission to get that old battleaxe to blush at least once."

"I think there's more chance of Lily agreeing to marry Prongs this afternoon, than there is of that."

"O ye of little faith…"

They walked further along the street, popping into the apothecary to replenish their potion kits and Sirius stopped at Zonko's, where all the staff knew him by name, to stock up on dungbombs.

As they neared the entrance to Knockturn Alley, Sirius stopped to look at Remus and waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"What?" said Remus, not following.

"We have to visit Knightly's Dark Delights," he said.

"_What?_" spluttered Remus.

"Bertie Russell got a great selection of – well, to protect your virtue, let's call it _gentleman's reading _from there. It was fine stuff, Moony."

"I'm not visiting a sex shop! Especially one with a name like it's come from a cheap novel."

"Oh, come on, don't be a killjoy! If anyone sees us, well, you're a dark creature and I'm a Black, it's practically programmed into our genetic natures to be perverse."

"I'm not going." he said adamantly.

"But _Mu-um_!" Sirius whined, trying to tug Remus down the Alley.

"The fact that you can bring up your mother in a conversation of this nature really disturbs me," said Remus trying desperately to free himself from Sirius's clutches.

They ended up tussling in the middle of the pavement, bumped about by miffed shoppers who muttered "Stupid kids!" as they brushed passed them.

Remus had nearly managed to free himself when he tripped over someone's foot and fell to the ground, Sirius landing heavily on top of him.

"Nice to see you guys," said a laughing voice above him and Remus peered past Sirius's tangle of hair to see Lily Evans grinning down at them.

He could hear James and Peter guffawing at them in the background, and Remus felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. He pushed Sirius off him and got to his feet. Mildred Malarkey, another Gryffindor in their year was there also, and Remus noted that she was holding hands with Peter.

"Nice to see you again too, Evans," said Sirius, straightening up. "Has the shrew been tamed yet, Prongs?"

Lily ignored this comment and turned to Remus instead.

"How's your summer been, Remus?" she asked warmly.

"Yeah, pretty good." he wasn't going to go into the specifics of it here. "You?"

"Yeah, about the same. You haven't met my sister yet, have you? Remus this is Petunia. Petunia, this is Remus Lupin, we're in the same house at school."

"Nice to meet you," said Remus, reaching out to shake her hand. Petunia looked startled, but offered her hand in as quick a handshake as was possible. She steadfastly refused to look at Sirius, who was trying catch her attention.

Lily smiled at Remus in silent thanks for not taking her sister's less than enthusiastic manner personally.

"I meant to tell you at the end of term, Remus," she said, "I'm dropping Astronomy this year."

"Oh, why's that?" he had enjoyed taking Astronomy lessons with her, they had been partners in those lessons since first year.

"I'm thinking of going into Healing," she said, "and there's more than enough NEWTs needed for that without adding Astronomy as well! Have you read the new Marcella Crouch novel yet? I think it's her best so far."

"Yes! Wasn't it great how she hid all those details, like when –"

"Anyway," said James loudly, interrupting this conversation, "we're heading to Gladrags, are you guys coming with us?"

"We've already been to –" began Remus.

"We've got to go buy porn," Sirius interrupted jauntily, giving Petunia an obnoxious wink as he said this, who became very flustered and hid behind Lily. "Remus is very excited."

"Not everyone's as obsessed as you, Black," said Lily coldly. "Remus has integrity."

"Perhaps," said Sirius coyly, "but then again there's a lot about Mr Lupin you don't know."

"Come on," said Lily to Mildred and Petunia. "Let's leave these idiots to it," and they stalked off.

"Thanks a lot guys," said James irritably. "The subtlety's really appreciated."

"Well, look on the bright side Prongs, it'll be pretty tough to come across as more obnoxious than Padfoot now."

James looked slightly cheered by this. 'I guess so, but you're still a tosspot, Black. Right, we better get moving, meet us back at the Leaky Cauldron in half an hour?"

"Okay," agreed Remus as James and Peter dashed off after the girls' retreating backs.

* * *

Somehow Sirius managed to steer themselves down Knockturn Alley. This street was completely different to Diagon Alley. The tall shop buildings managed to block most of the light from the sun. The streetlamps were permanently lit, but they still left plenty of shadowy spots for the depraved to skulk in. The window displays here, were not bright and gaudy like their Diagon Alley counterparts, but displayed an array of gruesome and Dark objects. One shop had a display of shrunken heads, while in another there was what looked like intestines in clear canopic jars.

"You know Remus," said Sirius seriously into the deadened silence of the alley, "you've really got to stop talking to Lily like that."

"What do you mean?" Remus said, taken aback. "Talk to her like what?"

"Look, I know you guys are friends and all, but James will seriously become really jealous if you keep talking to her like that. You know what I mean – discussing books and lessons and stuff."

"We're just friends," he said looking Sirius straight in the eye. "There's nothing else to it."

"_I _know that, but James… he's trailed around after her for six years now and got nowhere, and he sees the two of you getting on so well and… I mean, he _knows _there's nothing to it too, but I guess you've got give a guy a break from time to time."

"You know, Padfoot, that was really quite sweet."

"Yeah, well I'd save that thought for when –" he stilled suddenly, much in the same way Padfoot did when he'd scented a rabbit.

From the other end of the alley approached the Slytherin gang.

Severus Snape and Regulus were at the front of the group, followed by the thuggish bulk of Mulciber, Wilkes and Rosier. Next to them Snape and Regulus looked very weak indeed, but if Remus had learned on thing about Slytherins it was that the weedier they appeared, the more cunning and unscrupulous they were.

None of them had spotted Sirius and Remus yet, and the two boys immediately slunk into the shadowy doorway of what looked like some kind of gambling den. Through the gloom they saw the Slytherins turn off the main alley, and into narrow backstreet behind the Dancing Veela; a notoriously seedy tavern where many a scandal had occurred.

Sirius looked over his shoulder at Remus and without words they formed a plan. Together they crept slowly down to the entrance of the backstreet, keeping close to the wall. Sirius glanced down the backstreet and signalled to Remus to follow him. They crept a few metres along and then crouched down behind an overflowing and putrid smelling skip, and by peering over the rotting refuse they could see the Slytherins loitering suspiciously around the back door of the tavern.

Snape and Rosier were conversing together in low tones, while Regulus kept darting glances all around him like a wild animal trapped in a cage. Beside him, Remus felt Sirius tense, poised to launch into the scene. Remus was forcibly reminded of Padfoot on the hunt again, every muscle a-quiver, ready to dive in and give chase.

Just then the door the Slytherins were clustered around creaked open and out stepped Bellatrix Black followed by her faithful minions, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange.

Bellatrix surveyed the Slytherins like a haughty queen surveying a bunch of petty commoners. Sirius growled deep in his throat and Remus trod on his foot to remind him to hold his temper.

"Were you followed," she asked curtly, addressing Snape who seemed to be the leader of the gang. None of the other Slytherins dared a glance at the Death Eaters, all staring down at their feet, except from Wilkes who was apparently too stupid to do so.

"No," answered Snape, "no one knows we are here."

"I trust you destroyed my letter as instructed?"

"Yes," said Snape, "and we have carried out the steps you outlined. Everything is in place."

"Good," said Bellatrix, looking at Snape with a level of begrudging respect. "Then nothing else is to be done until you arrive at Hogwarts. How many weeks is it until the start of term?"

"Two," replied Snape. "Are we to meet again before carrying out stage one?"

"Naturally," said Bellatrix crisply. "You hardly think the Dark Lord would place such a task entirely in the hands of a bunch of inexperienced sixteen year olds?" she mocked derisively.

A faint flush tinged Snape's sallow skin.

"So, we'll meet in the Three Broomsticks again –" began Wilkes loudly.

"Be quiet!" hissed Bellatrix, glancing up and down the alley, and Sirius and Remus crouched lower behind the skip. Rodolphus and Rabastan advanced on Wilkes, who looked terrified, flexing their muscles threateningly.

"I thought you were selecting the best people?" Bellatrix demanded of Snape, who alone of the Slytherins still looked completely unruffled by the situation. Indeed he stared back at Bellatrix with something like disdain in his dark eyes.

"Wilkes will certainly not be entrusted with anything important," he said scornfully. "He's muscle, that's all."

"Don't worry, cousin," said Regulus fervently, stepping forward and addressing the Death Eater. "Some people are more responsible and eager to serve than others."

Bellatrix looked at her younger cousin approvingly and said, "Good, because you're all the family has to rely on, now your brother has shown his weak blood. Keep the name of Black pure," she said to Regulus who was practically glowing with pride.

"We'll shall meet again at your first weekend off," she said quietly to Snape. "Tell no one, and make sure you aren't followed. And make sure these idiots can keep quiet too," she added surveying the other Slytherins, focusing particularly on Wilkes who at least had the sense to blush.

With one final nod at Snape, Bellatrix and her henchmen turned on their heels and disapparated.

Sirius immediately made to dive out from their hiding place, ready to fight, but Remus – who had anticipated this – intercepted him and slammed him into the back of the dumpster, which rang with a loud metallic clang.

"What was that?" said one of the Slytherins, a note of panic in the voice.

Remus didn't relent his grip on Sirius's shoulders and he felt Sirius breath hot in his face, as he struggled against Remus's grip. Remus's mind flashed back to what happened the last time they were this close; saw the break of bone in Sirius's once aristocratic nose. He looked hard into Sirius's eyes which were glowing with rage, and after a few moments he stopped struggling.

"Come on," they heard Snape say. "Let's get out of here."

As Sirius tried to break free again, Remus growled without consciously thinking about it. He felt the wolf stir within him, and shoved Sirius against the skip again.

"What are you going to do Remus?" sneered Sirius maliciously after a beat. "Going to break my nose again, eh? You're a dark creature after all, what else can you do?"

"Fuck off," snarled Remus, willing himself not to do what Sirius was suggesting and lash out physically. He thought about the calm seaside at home, and willed the wolf to back down into its dormant state once more. Though he was still outraged that Sirius had the nerve to bring up the wolf at all.

They squared up to each other for a further minute breathing hard, each determined not to look away first. Eventually, Sirius flinched and Remus took the opportunity to stalk off down the backstreet, putting some much needed space between them.

He felt muddled – off-balance – like he had drunk too much Firewhisky too quickly.

As he past the door to the Dancing Veela, from which drunken yells were echoing, he could see the Slytherin gang at the other end of the narrow backstreet behind the tavern, as they were about to enter Diagon Alley.

"Come on," he said curtly to Sirius, who was still standing by the skip. "We're late for meeting James."

They walked to the end of the backstreet, and upon reaching Diagon Alley they could just make out the Slytherins, walking in the opposite direction from where the Leaky Cauldron was.

"Come on," Remus repeated again.

Sirius stared hard after Snape and his brother as they were swallowed by the crowd, but eventually he followed Remus.


	3. Girls, Girls, Girls

3.

Leaving his trunk safely stowed away in the luggage rack, Remus jumped back off the Hogwarts Express and onto Platform nine and three-quarters to say goodbye to his mother. She was standing next to Mrs Potter who was, as usual, making a big fuss over James. There were some tears in Elena Lupin's eyes as she hugged her son, and Remus had a flashback to when he was eleven: in robes two sizes too big for him, a trunk he could hardly lift and feeling absolutely petrified by the huge number of people milling around on the platform, leaving his parents' safety and into the unknown… So much had changed since then, but he was glad his mother was still there, seeing him through it all.

"Now, Jamie," said Mrs Potter, fixing her son with a stern eye, "let's try and make it through the first month without any detentions - eh?"

"I'll try my best, mum," said James, shuffling from foot to foot rather guiltily.

"Oh, you can't stop him Mrs Potter," said Sirius. "Always dragging us into trouble with him - isn't that right, Remus?"

"That warning applies to you too, Mr Black!" said Mrs Potter, though there was a twinkle in her warm brown eyes. "I don't want to hear about any more shenanigans from either of you two. Did you know, Elena, I got an owl from the Headmaster telling me that these two had inflated Bertram Aubrey's head to twice its usual size! It's not funny, James!" she cried because he and Sirius had started sniggering at the memory of the prank. "Your father has to see Mr Aubrey at work, it's just embarrassing. At least we can count on your son to keep himself out of trouble, Elena."

"Oh, don't let Remus fool you with his 'good-little-prefect routine' – he was the one who taught us the jinx to use on Aubrey!" said Sirius indignantly.

"I did no such thing," Remus denied mischievously, as the guard's first whistle went to usher people into their carriages.

"I'll go get us a carriage, shall I?" asked Sirius. "And I'll try and drag Peter's tongue away from poor Mildred Malarkey while I'm at it. See you, Mrs Lupin. Thanks for everything Mrs Potter."

"Oh, come here you! You don't get away that easy," said Mrs Potter, drawing Sirius into a warm-hearted hug. "Now, don't you worry, you'll always be welcome at our house - even if it's just Sunday lunch."

"Thanks very much, I'll hold you to that." Sirius said as he walked over to the train doors.

"You boys keep me young, I swear. Now Jamie –"

As she began to fuss over her son once more, Elena Lupin put her hand on Remus's shoulder and drew him slightly away from the other two.

"You'll write?" she asked while nervously straightening Remus's robes, and leaving them in a more rumpled state than they had been to begin with.

"Of course," Remus said reassuringly, "I've never forgotten to write yet, have I?"

"No, no of course not - you know how I worry. And what Mrs Potter was saying is right too. I know you boys like to get up to all sorts of high-jinks, but do try to keep out of mischief this year, dear."

"I'll do my best," said Remus, smiling at his mother.

"And you know that your appointment for the Rehabilitation Scheme is at the end of the month. You'll remember to ask Professor Dumbledore's permission to go?"

"Yes, mum, I'll remember."

"And you'll let me know how everything goes?" she said, worry starting to creep into her voice.

"Yes, mum," he said gently, slowly detaching her hands from his now rumpled robes. "I'll be fine, don't worry so much."

"Okay, okay - I'll let you go. Give the rest of the boys my love."

"I think that's more than they deserve. See you soon, mum."

Remus climbed back into the nearest carriage as the guard's final whistle sounded shrilly, cutting through the babble of talk, mewing of cats and hoots of owls. He held the door open for James who clambered in after him having broken free from his own mother's dramatic embrace. As the train began to pull away from the platform and pick up speed, the two boys lent out the window to wave to their mothers. They were soon out of sight as the train rounded a corner, and they headed into their compartment where Sirius and Peter were waiting.

"Honestly, Wormtail," Sirius was saying as they entered the carriage, "you looked like you were a fish out of water, writhing all over her like that!"

"I was not _writhing,_" replied Peter hotly. "She likes it like that."

"What are you talking about?" asked James as he sat down.

"Peter was throwing himself all over Mildred Malarkey – honestly it was horrible."

"Oh, knock it off, Padfoot," said James in a weary tone. "Don't listen to him, Pete, he's just upset because he's got no one to snog himself."

"So speaks the man who's trailed around after the same girl since we started school without any success," said Sirius. "Besides, I've always got Remus to snog," he said in jest, tipping Remus an enormous wink as he said it.

"Oh, so that explains what you were doing that time Padfoot tried to lick me in the face – no wonder Beatrice McElroy said you weren't worth all the hype," Remus replied, unruffled, as James and Peter laughed.

"She just wasn't mature enough to handle my acquired tastes," Sirius said with an air of great dignity.

"_Okay_," said Remus sceptically. "Well, as much as I'd love to continue this conversation, I've got to go to the Prefect carriage for a bit. I'll be back in about half an hour."

And he left the carriage, ignoring their playful taunts of "_Oooooh, Remus the Prefect!" _as he went.

He walked down the corridor, swaying slightly in time with the train, and eventually arrived at the front carriage of the train where a compartment was always reserved for the Prefects. As he walked in he saw that all the other Prefects were already waiting for him, and Remus smiled apologetically as he took his seat beside Lily.

As far as meeting went, they didn't get much done – a state of affairs that was hardly unusual. Lily passed Remus the letter from Professor McGonagall that contained the new Gryffindor password ('stroganoff'), and Janetta Lufkin, the Ravenclaw prefect who took it upon herself to chair their meetings, began to assign everyone their duties for the day.

"Okay, guys," she said taking out a roll of parchment and a quill. "Let's decide who's doing what tasks – and let's bear in mind that we don't want another Mark Johnstone fiasco this year," she stared particularly hard at the Slytherin prefect, Pius Thicknesse, as she said this.

Mark Johnstone had been a first year the previous year, and due to a series of misfortunate events – largely caused by Thicknesse declining to make sure all the first years made it from the train to Hagrid, as he had been instructed – he was missing from the start of term feast. In fact, he didn't turn up at the castle until two days into the start of term, after a search party had been launched to find him. He was eventually found huddled on the Hogsmeade-side of the Forbidden Forest, having completely lost his bearings and had given up trying to find the castle in a state of nervous collapse. The prefects were subjected to an hour long rant, delivered by a spectacularly irate Professor McGonagall, who claimed she had never encountered such an incompetent bunch of prefects in all her sixteen years of teaching.

Consequently, the small group of prefects were determined to prove her wrong this year, and none was as determined as Janetta Lufkin who was determined to be Head Girl in their final year.

"Right, we need people to patrol the corridors, any volunteers?" she asked briskly looking round at them all. "Okay – Lily, Julia, Pius and Clementine – if you'll just wander up and down every half-hour or so to make sure nothing gets out of hand." Pius Thicknesse settled back in his seat, looking relieved that he had a task that came with so little responsibility.

"Gideon, Leven and I will help the younger ones off with their luggage, and Remus if you just make sure everyone's off the train and Hagrid's got _all _the first years this time?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Remus said.

"Okay, well I don't think there's anything else to discuss. Thanks everyone," and with that over, the talk soon turned to what people had doing over the holidays.

Remus asked Julia Kilpatrick, the Hufflepuff prefect, how her holidays had been and she told him of her travels with her cousins around Europe.

"… and then we went to my aunt's chateaux in the south of France," she explained.

"That sounds lovely," said Remus.

"Well, anything would be lovely compared to that hovel you live in, eh, Lupin?" sneered Thicknesse from across the carriage.

"Watch your mouth, Pius!" Gideon, the other Ravenclaw prefect, warned angrily.

"I'm pretty confident that living in the Shrieking Shack would be more 'lovely' than anything Lupin goes home to," continued Thicknesse spitefully.

"Well, _I_ am pretty confident that I'll at least be able to count the number of first-years there are off the train," Remus replied coolly.

Thicknesse blushed furiously, as the other Prefects laughed at him.

"Come on," he said angrily to Clementine. "Let's get out of here." And so the Slytherin prefects left, scowling at Remus as they went.

"That was great, Remus," said Julia admiringly, and she gave him a big smile that made his stomach swoop.

* * *

With the meeting over, the remaining prefects left in twos and threes. Remus, Lily and Julia waved goodbye to the others and headed down the train to where the Marauders' compartment was. As they came nearer to the middle of the train the saw a group of nervous looking first years crowded in the corridor, and Remus sensed that something was up.

"What's going on here?" said Lily in her no-nonsense Prefect voice.

The first-years look round nervously, then cleared a space for the three of them to get through and they saw James and Snape, and Sirius and Regulus facing each other off, wands drawn.

_Great_, Remus thought to himself, _we couldn't even make it out of England before the trouble starts._

"Okay, you guys, back into your compartment," said Julia ushering the gaggle of first years out of harm's way, back into their carriage. Peter was hovering in the doorway of the Marauders' compartment, but he wasn't making any move to join in the fight.

Regulus suddenly moved his wand to curse Sirius, but Sirius was too quick for him and hit him square in the chest with a stunning spell. Regulus crumpled to the floor like a limp rag doll.

"Idiot should've known I've always been quicker than him," snarled Sirius, glaring at his brother's crumpled body.

At that moment James sent a hex at Snape, who deftly blocked the spell and instead hit James with a bright blue jinx, which sent him crashing into the train wall behind him. There were gasps and cries of shock from the first-years who were still ogling the duel through the glass door of their compartment.

Sirius let out a shout of rage that sounded like a bark, and launched himself in front of Snape. The stood nose-to-nose, wands pointing directly in each other's face.

"Sirius, stop!" says Remus, reaches forward to grab Sirius's wand arm and pull him away from Snape before the situation could escalate any further.

"Leave off, Remus!" growled Sirius, lip curling, trying to break free from Remus's grip.

Snape smiled a twisted smile at this.

"I'm surprised you let your bitch off its leash, Black." he said, a malevolent glint in his black eyes. "Or is it that time of the month already?"

Remus felt his face blanch as his hearing became muffled and fear consumed his entire body. This was it – Snape was going to reveal his secret right here, in front of a crowd of onlookers; he was going to have to leave Hogwarts; spend the rest of his life on the streets begging for money –

Dimly above the sound of his own blood pounding in his ears, Remus was aware of Lily shouting at Snape.

"For heavens sake Severus! Stop it! What's Remus done to you? Get out of here!"

A brief look of chagrin crossed Snape's face, but when he turned round to face Sirius again his usual sneer was back in place. "You better keep that hot temper of yours, Black," he said delicately, "or I might make things _difficult_ for your friend, here."

With that parting comment, Snape levitated Regulus's unconscious body in front of him, and prowled away down the corridor.

"Okay guys, nothing to see here," said Julia, to the students peering round their compartment doors up and down the length of the corridor. "Go on!"

Together, Sirius and Remus hauled James up from where he was slumped against the wall, and dragged him into their compartment. He wasn't unconscious, but his eyes were glazed over and he looked slightly bewildered at the sight of them.

"Thanks for the show of support, Wormtail," Sirius says scathingly, as they heaved James past him and onto the seat.

"Wasn't my fight," said Peter, in a small but steady voice. "Nothing to do with me."

"Nothing to do with you," Sirius repeated incredulously, turning round to face him. "For fucks sake, Peter, when one of your friends is in trouble you go damn near out of your way to help them!_ Nothing to do with you_ – I'll remember that next time Mulciber's levicorpus-ed your arse."

Their argument was interrupted by James who gave a loud squawk, like a crow, and he looked as taken aback as any of the rest of them when he heard it come out of his mouth. He cleared his throat and tried again, and uttered a high pitched squeak.

"What did they hit him with?" asked Lily, concern not completely masking the amusement in her voice, at James's predicament.

"Looked like some kind of jinx," said Julia, pulling her wand out of a pocket in her robes. She bent down in front of James and began muttering counter-jinxes under her breath.

Remus collapsed onto the seat beside the window, pressing his cheek against the cool glass. He could feel his body shaking, and took some deep breaths. How could he stand it, knowing Snape could spill the beans at any time? How was he going to make it through to end of the year, without Snape being provoked enough to tell everyone he was a werewolf? With the rate Sirius and James usually pissed off Snape he wouldn't make it until the end of the month. Sirius had told him that Snape had sworn secrecy to Dumbledore, but even Dumbledore couldn't erase what would happen if Snape 'accidentally' let it slip.

He caught Sirius looking at him – half concerned, half guilty – and Remus tried to pull himself together.

"_Oratio reverto_," Julia said pointing her wand at James's throat. This time the counter-jinx worked, and James's rubbed his throat then said "hello?" nervously to test his voice.

His face cracked into a wide grin at it returning to normal. "Thanks, Julia," he said gratefully. "I owe you one."

"No problem, James," said Julia modestly, "just don't play any pranks on us Hufflepuffs this year."

James chuckled, "A whole year! That's a bit much, isn't it?"

"Okay – 'til Christmas then?"

"Deal." James declared, and they shook hands.

"Why were they even here, anyway," Lily asked. " Surely you haven't done something to them already."

"Why's it always us doing something to them?" said James irritably. "We can't help it if they're aggressive gits."

"We better patrol the corridor, Lily," said Julia, stepping in before Lily and James could start bickering with each other. "See you later, you guys. I'll catch you later, Remus."

For some reason Remus couldn't fathom, Julia's last comment made Sirius even more pissed off than he already was. He muttered something under his breath that Remus didn't catch as compartment door slammed after the girls left.

"I can't wait to catch those dirty little Slytherins at what ever they're planning," Sirius spat venomously, kicking the underside of the seat as he said so.

"What was it Bellatrix said to them again?" asked James.

They'd been over it before with each other many times since Remus and Sirius had returned to the Leaky Cauldron, after having seen the Slytherin gang in Knockturn Alley. But as they had no further leads to go on, their conversations on the subject were rather circular.

"Bellatrix said they would meet at their first weekend off," said Remus, hoping the others didn't pick up on the tremor that was still in his voice. "I presume that must be the first Hogsmeade weekend."

"That'll be at about the start of October," supplied Peter helpfully.

'Then we've got a whole month to follow them and see if we can catch them up to anything else," James said matter-of-factly.

"I still think we should tell Dumbledore," Peter stated.

"Why?" demanded Sirius. "We've been over this a hundred times – if we tell Dumbledore now, all the Slytherins will get is a couple of detentions and there's no hard evidence of anything illegal to pin on Bellatrix and the other Death Eaters. If we wait for a while, and see if we can actually catch them up to something, then we can put them away for a long time."

"Azkaban, you mean?" said James. "_Jesus_, it's your own brother Padfoot," he said uncomfortably.

"Not anymore," said Sirius in a deadened tone. "I left, remember."

"Well, now you say that, I do vaguely remember some idiot staying in my room this summer," said James in a voice of mock-forgetfulness. "Odd chap; smelt like wet dog."

"Oh, shut up," said Sirius, but he wasn't as angry as had been a few moments ago.

The next hour passed comfortably and Remus was nearly feeling normal again, when James brought up the one subject he wasn't eager to talk about.

"The next full moon's on the twenty-sixth, isn't it Moony?" he said thoughtfully.

"Eh, yeah," said Remus, who turned to look out the window in the hope that James's would change the subject.

"That's good," continued James, "because then we'll all be able to make it to Hogsmeade the weekend the Slytherins are going to meet Bellatrix."

"I can't wait to go out on the run again," said Sirius wistfully. "I haven't been able to change into Padfoot all summer."

He and James then began to discuss where they would go on the next full moon outing, and Remus squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. He hadn't told the others about the Ministry's Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme yet, and he wasn't looking forward to it. He knew that he would have to tell them that they would be sharing no full moons together at some point soon, but he just couldn't bring himself to hurt his friends.

* * *

The train sped north; soon they had left the idyllic English countryside behind and were speeding through the rugged, rain-lashed glens of Scotland. Night fell quickly and light sprung into the lamps along the corridors and in their compartment. The Marauders played some very competitive games of gobstones, Peter got a huge selection of food off the trolley, and they spent the rest of the journey in companionable company.

Eventually, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station, and there was the usual chaotic scramble as everyone tried to pile off the train all at once.

"I've got to go and meet Mildred," said Peter

"And I better go help Lily with her luggage." said James, hurrying out of the compartment. "Stage one of the plan and all."

"How long d'you reckon before Lily hexes him?" Sirius said sardonically to Remus, as they waited until everyone else left the train in front of them so Remus could perform his Prefect duty.

They walked together along the empty corridor, making sure no one had been left behind. As they stepped off the train they saw a small lost-looking first year girl on the deserted platform, and Remus directed her over to Hagrid who was waiting with the rest of the first years. The little girl looked terrified at the sight of Hagrid – she was so tiny, she barely rose past his knee – and looked up at Remus with wide, frightened eyes.

"Don't worry," said Remus kindly, "Hagrid's nowhere near as scary as he looks."

"All righ' Remus, Sirius?" said Hagrid nodding at them as they approached.

"Great, thanks," replied Remus. "Have you got them all Hagrid?"

"Yep, Professor McGonagall said there should be twenty-two, and with this little one," he smiled at little girl under his tangle of beard, "we're all accounted for. No Mark Johnstone's this year. See you boys later – and don't you go jinxing ma pumpkins this year, or I'll have Fang skin you alive!" The first years around him all looked absolutely petrified when Hagrid made this ill-judged threat.

"He's only joking," Remus reassured them. "See you later, Hagrid." He and Sirius watched as the half-giant led the little group of first years down to the group of boats that were waiting at the lake's shore.

"Remember when we sailed across," said Sirius, sounding almost sentimental as they made their way to one horseless carriage that remained to take them up to the castle.

"I remember you hitting me on the head with the oar," replied Remus.

Sirius snickered, "I forgot about that – you were too scared to come near me for the whole of the first week."

"My mother had warned me against rogues like you, not that anyone could resist your charms for very long."

Sirius smiled strangely at Remus, and looked as if he was about to say something else when he was cut off by a shrill shriek of "_Sirius!_"

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Sirius said exasperatedly. "Quick, Moony get in the carriage, quick!"

But it was too late, and they came face to face with Verella Selwyn; a Slytherin harpy in the year below them. She was determined to marry a pureblood heir – her one and only goal in life.

She climbed into the carriage after them, and plonked herself down in space between them, practically sitting in Sirius's lap.

"Sirius, darling! I haven't heard from you _all _summer. How have you _be-en_?" One of Verella's most annoying attributes was that she phrased all her questions in a sing-song voice.

Sirius flashed Remus a desperate pleading look as Verella played with his hair, but Remus just laughed to himself. Sirius got so much attention from so many girls at Hogwarts, that Remus thought it only fair that he should also have to put up with someone like Verella, just to balance it out. He was a little surprised though – although Verella was incredibly annoying, it was unlike Sirius to try and shrug off attention any girl paid to him.

After several minutes of listening to Verella coo over Sirius, they eventually arrived at the castle and Sirius was halfway across the Entrance Hall before Remus had even left his seat.

"Bye Sirius!" Verealla sang after him, as he headed to the Gryffindor table.

"Oh my god, that girl's an idiot!" he cried. "Thanks for helping me out, Moony."

They sat down next to James and Peter who had saved spaces for them at the table. Remus's stomach gave a large rumble as he looked at the vast array of food spread out before them, and piled some spare ribs onto his plate.

"You think Professor Buttifant and Professor Phipps have got it on yet?" queried Peter, eyeing the professors at the top table. Buttifant and Phipps were the Astronomy and Muggle Studies teachers professors, who unsuccessfully tried to hide the fact that they were both attracted to each other

"I just don't see the chemistry there," said James, around a mouthful of mashed potato.

"You didn't see them fall out of that broom cupboard that time," Peter said adamantly. "I don't care what they said – they were _not _polishing brooms."

"Well," said Sirius in a suggestive voice, "maybe it was just Phipps polishing Buttifant's broom, if you know what I mean."

"Eurgh!" said James, spraying potato all over the table top. "You, Padfoot, have a sick, sick mind."

At that moment the rest of the students around them fell silent, as Professor Dumbledore stood to address them.

"I have quite a lot to say this year," he said in an usually serious tone, "and I would like everyone to give me their full attention. A lot of bad things have happened over the last few months since we were last together. I want you all to know that what happens outside these castle walls does not change what you are here. We can set an example to the rest of the community, that witches and wizards from all backgrounds can work together without discord. There are people out there who want to spread hate, and we must resist."

The Marauders saw Slytherins smirk over at the table and Remus got the distinct impression that their battles over the next year were going to be about a lot more than house rivalries.

"I have faith in every single one of you," Dumbledore continued. "Faith that you will make the right decision if the time should come. If anyone has any concerns about anything they hear or read, please speak to either myself or one of your teachers and we shall try our best to alleviate your fears. One last thing before you go to bed," the twinkle had returned to his eyes, Okay off you go!"

As one everyone spilled out of the Great Hall, and the Gryffindors clambered up the staircase to their dormitory. Remus could see Lily's red hair at the front of the queue, leading the first years through the portrait hole.

"What's the password, Remus?" called some third years in front of him.

"Stroganoff," said Remus.

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open, and the Marauders climbed up into the common room, and headed up the staircase to their dormitory which had a sign on it that now read _Sixth Years._

Dropping down gratefully onto his four-poster bed, Remus looked over at Sirius who was staring around the dormitory with a huge grin on his face.

"What is it?" Remus asked.

Sirius gave a satisfied sigh. "Home at last."


	4. Discoveries

**A.N: This is one **_**long **_**chapter - hope you enjoy it. And a huge thanks to those that have left reviews so far.**

4.

Over the next two weeks, the familiarity of being back at Hogwarts returned rapidly. Already, Remus felt that the summer months spent at his parents' cottage had happened a lifetime ago. James and Sirius lost no time in being served a detention by Professor McGonagall (two weeks scrubbing Hospital Wing floor) for charming the benches in the Great Hall to retreat any time anyone approached them. As a result, no one was able to sit down to eat, causing a lot of confusion in the Great Hall at breakfast and a lot of extra laundry for the house-elves.

The pressure of the NEWT examinations was bearing down on the sixth year students as well. Even though they would not sit the exams until the end of the next school year, their teachers were eager to impress the importance of a steady practice of revision throughout the year and extra reading in their free periods. It was enough to make anyone nervous, and Remus had noticed that even James – who until this point, had been practically allergic to studying for any protracted length of time – had actually re-read his Charms notes the other night. Poor Peter was terrified of failing already, and had thrown himself into his studies trying to cram such a lot of extra studying into his days that even now, barely two weeks into the term, he was already close to collapse.

It had just passed midnight, and the Marauders were sitting in the deserted Common Room. The fire was dying down gradually, embers casting an sunset-orange glow over the detritus of crumpled parchment, empty ink bottles and chocolate frog wrappers that had been strewed about the room. Outside the night was cool and clear, and the faintest silver-slither of moon could be seen through the darkened window.

They were being pretty quiet, for once. Peter was helping Remus with his transfiguration spells for class the next day. Ever since the other three Marauders had completed the Animagus transformation, they had had no problem with the NEWT-level human transfiguration they had just started in their lessons. They could hardly contain their smug grins as they completed every task Professor McGonagall gave them with ease and in a quarter of the time it took the rest of the class. McGonagall was completely bewildered by their new-found talent, and Remus could see that she was suspicious – but with no evidence of cheating, all she could do was praise the boys (albeit slightly begrudgingly) for their excellent work. Remus didn't envy Peter the praise – Peter rarely heard he was good at anything, particularly from McGonagall – but Remus didn't think that swelling James and Sirius's already inflated egos was a good move. For one thing, when their egos burst Remus didn't want to be around to clear up the mess.

In return for Peter being Remus's transfiguration dummy, Remus was helping Peter with Charms and Defence Against the Dark Arts. It was part of a tacit agreement between the two, and both were grateful for each other's co-operation. After all it was highly unlikely that Sirius or James would condescend to giving their friends a helping hand – "If I share my talent with you, where would that leave me?" Sirius was often fond of saying.

At the moment, Sirius was ensconced in an armchair by the fire, poring over a Muggle motorbike manual he had uncovered in the library. Having chosen Muggle Studies in third year for the sole reason that it would piss off his mother, Sirius had been rather shocked to find that he had a great interest in all kinds of Muggle machinery. Both pleased and surprised by Sirius's enthusiasm in her often overlooked subject, Professor Phipps had acquired an old television set for him last year so he could experiment with it. The said television set was currently lying in bits under Sirius's bed, as he worked to build it back together. When Remus pointed out that this was a pointless exercise – since even if Sirius eventually managed to get the TV back in one piece again, it would never work due to interference from the magic in Hogwarts – Sirius had just shrugged and said "Doesn't matter. I just want to see _how_ they put it together". He was determined to get it working ever since catching a fuzzy episode of _Fawlty Towers _across the airwaves one night.

One of his other ambitions was to own a motorbike. Quite why anyone would want to ride on such a death trap was beyond Remus, but whenever he brought this up Sirius would just get that maniacal gleam in his eyes and start enthusing about the thrill of the road and wind through the hair, until Remus was nearly convinced that it would, actually, be fun. As such, Sirius spent much of his spare time re-reading motorbike guides and handbooks, deciding which ones he would buy once he left school and got a job.

James was sitting in the chair across from Sirius, reading a Marcella Crouch novel he had borrowed from Remus. Stage three of his grand plan to woo Lily was apparently to become interested in all the things she enjoyed, and while Remus agreed that this was one stage that might actually succeed in getting Lily to like him, he noticed that James had spent far more time alternately gazing into the fire's dying embers and staring out of the darkened window, than he had actually spent reading the book.

Remus had just made a botched attempt to transfigure Peter's arm into a wing, but had instead caused a load of turquoise feathers to sprout from his ears, when James suddenly sat bolt upright in his chair, book falling to the floor, and exclaimed "What the fuck are

they doing?"

As one, the Marauders stood up and crowded around the window looking over the grounds. Peter kept saying_ "what?"_ loudly, since the feathers had blocked his hearing. Without glancing at Peter, Sirius removed the feathers protruding from his ears with a flick of his wand.

There was a group of people skirting the shadowy edge of the Forbidden Forest. One of them had the distinct loping prowl of what could only be Severus Snape. The five other figures accompanying him all had their cloak hoods pulled far over their faces, and Remus couldn't make out the identity of any of them. He did notice, however, that one of the figures was considerably taller than the others and strode ahead assertively whilst the others sneaked along behind.

In single file the cloaked figures entered a door at the base of the Gryffindor Tower, where the Marauders knew from their frequent wanderings of the castle that there was a little-known-about passage that led to the Slytherin common room.

"What on earth are they doing in the forest at this time of night?" said Remus wonderingly.

"Yeah, don't they know there are wild beasts in there," joked Sirius, nudging Remus in the ribs.

"You think that was Snape and the Slytherins?" asked Peter, who had to stand on tip-toe to see out of the high window.

"Definitely," James said. "Could recognise that prowling git anywhere." He looked round at Remus and Sirius, "You don't think they were meeting Bellatrix in there, do you? Maybe that was the meeting you guys heard about in Knockturn Alley?"

"Can't be," said Remus. "You can't apparate in or out of the grounds, and Hagrid locks the front gates at night – you couldn't get in without his key."

There was silence as the four boys contemplated what they had just witnessed. Leaving the window, they returned to their seats around the fire.

"Who do you think that tall bloke was with them?" James glanced around at the others.

"I just assumed that was Mulciber," said Remus.

"No, Mulciber's not much taller than me. I've stood beside him on the Quidditch pitch before. Broad as a fucking bear, but not that tall. That guy down there was a lot taller."

"I don't know who it could've been then –"

"The Slytherins have been in weird places ever since we came back," Sirius interrupted. "Skulking around the corridors and dungeons, and now coming out the forest at night."

"They were missing at breakfast at the start of the week too, remember?" piped up Peter.

"What _are_ they doing?" James wondered aloud. "How can we keep track of them? We can't follow them all the time."

The Marauder's fell quiet again as they tried to puzzle out the mystery. The fire crackled and popped as it burnt down to the ashes, and the room grew steadily darker.

After some time had passed, Peter broke the silence hesitantly, "What if we had some kind of – some kind of map?"

"What use would that be?" said Sirius. "We know our way around the castle, we just don't know where_ they're_ going to be."

Undeterred by Sirius's response, Peter carried on, "The Muggles have this thing – radar or something it's called, Mildred told me about it – anyway you can track people on it. They show up on one of those electric box things they use. The Muggles use it to track wild animals. If they can attach a collar to it, they can keep track of it on the screen."

"Yeah but we can hardly put tracking collars around the Slytherins without them noticing!" scoffed Sirius. "You and Mildred sure have some weird conversations, Pete. _Collars_..."

"Wait, maybe Peter's onto something here," said Remus seriously. "Flitwick talked about tracking spells last year when we were doing the OWL course. It wouldn't be radar exactly, but we could try and make something similar."

"You think that would work?" James asked.

"It's possible. It'd be tricky though – but we can ask Flitwick about tracking spells and try to get some books from the library on it. It's worth a try," he said to Sirius, who still looked unconvinced. "It's a good idea Peter."

Peter beamed with pride at the praise.

"Well, if we can turn into animagi by ourselves, tracking the Slytherins will be no problem," Sirius said, returning to his motorbike manual.

"We can ask Flitwick tomorrow then," said James as though that settled the subject.

They stayed up for a little longer after that, but after James fell asleep and dropped Remus's Marcella Crouch novel in the fire, they eventually dragged themselves up to bed.

* * *

The ceiling of the Great Hall was a pale duck-egg blue and faint, wispy clouds were flitting across the sky as the Marauders sat down to breakfast the next morning. Verella Selwyn was waving frantically over at them from the Slytherin table, trying unsuccessfully to catch Sirius's attention. Looking past Verella, Remus saw that the Slytherin sixth years – Snape, Mulciber, Wilkes, Rosier and also Regulus – all had dark circles under their eyes and looked a little worse-for-wear from previous night's .

Remus's eyes fell on a spare copy of the day's Daily Prophet and felt something twist sharply in his gut. _GIANTS JOIN YOU-KNOW-WHO'S ARMY: Ministry to clamp down on Dark Creatures. _Scanning quickly down the article Remus saw that Edmir Gillespie, the Minister for Magic, had made a statement: '_The control of known Dark Creatures now is absolutely essential,' _his quote ran, '_We must ensure that no other fringe groups aid You-Know-Who's attempts to destabilise our society. The Ministry has already launched outreach programmes, tailored to monitor the whereabouts of not only giants, but werewolves and vampires too. We are making it a priority that all these known terror suspects are brought under our control, and anyone who fails to comply with the Ministry's schemes will face the gravest punishments allowed.'_

Carefully, Remus turned the paper over so the others wouldn't notice the headline. He knew the time to tell the rest of the Marauders about the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme was looming. But if there one thing being a werewolf had taught Remus, it was how to compartmentalise and he shoved his nerves to the back of his mind and focused on his breakfast.

He was just pouring milk over his bowl of Rune Puffs when the post owls streamed in overhead. Sirius looked surprised when a glossy eagle owl landed in front of him, deposited its letter on the table top and took off again in a rush of haughty feathers. He picked up the letter gingerly as though it was liable to explode; the only letters Sirius ever got were from home, and they usually came in a red envelope. As Sirius read the contents of the letter, Remus saw a deadened look enter his pale eyes and felt his own heart sink. He'd never met Walburga Black personally but from the things he'd heard

Sirius mention over the years about her and her household, Remus had more than a few things he'd like to call her on.

"What is it?" Peter asked.

"Nothing," said Sirius, making to stuff the letter in his robes pocket, but James reached over and plucked it from his hands before he had the chance. James read the letter, little stress lines around his mouth tightening as he read down the parchment. After he finished, he and Sirius exchanged a grim look.

"_What is it?_" Peter said more adamantly this time.

"It's nothing," James said firmly and handed the letter back to Sirius.

Peter looked put-out at this brush off, and shot an appealing glance at Remus who just shrugged and returned to his cereal. He wasn't overly bothered by being kept out of the loop. James and Sirius were best friends, and Remus knew they told each other secrets they didn't share with him or Peter. Years worth of experience had taught Remus that when it came to Sirius's family it was best to wait until Sirius was willing to divulge the information, unless you wanted to spend the rest of the week bedridden in the Hospital Wing.

Besides, it wasn't like Remus didn't have a secret of his own at the moment.

The bell rang to signal the start of morning classes. At once the Great Hall was filled with the scrape of the benches being pulled back and the thunder footsteps as the students flooded out into the corridors. The Marauders gathered up their bags and books and began to head to their first class.

"There's Flitwick there," said James as they passed the top table, where the tiny old Charms teacher was finishing off the final bite of his kippers-on-toast. "You two go on ahead, and me and Wormtail will ask him about those tracking spells."

"Okay, we'll see you at break." Remus and Sirius joined the throng of people streaming out of the Hall.

"Double Muggle Studies – what a skive," said Sirius. "Thursday is definitely the best day of our timetable."

"Did you pick all the same subjects as me so you can annoy me to death." Remus asked him, as they made their way to the Muggle Studies class on the other side of the castle.

"Oh, Remus, love of my life, how could I bear to part with you for even an hour of the day?" Sirius exclaimed, mock-swooning as he walked along the corridor.

"I'm just saying – shouldn't you have some poor girl to chase rather than dog me all day?"

"Ah, I see what you did there - Padfoot appreciates your wit."

"Woof," said Remus as he pushed the classroom door open and stepped inside.

The rest of their classmates were just taking their seats as Remus and Sirius slipped into two empty desks behind Lily and Julia.

This was the smallest of Remus's NEWT classes. There were only two other Ravenclaws in the class and, showing that prejudice was still rife, no Slytherins. Professor Phipps was a round-faced cheerful woman. She was extremely enthusiastic about her subject, and so pleased that some students had decided to progress to NEWT level that she would let them get away with murder. As a result, no one did very much work and they mainly spent the class chatting with each other, Professor Phipps included.

Though Sirius's reasons for taking the subject were largely to offend his family's pureblood sensibilities, Remus's were a little more about self-preservation. After a disastrous careers meeting with Professor McGonagall last year, where it became pretty clear that Remus's chances of getting a job were slim to none, it was highly probable that Remus would have to find employment in Muggle society.

"Remus," Lily said, turning around to face him, green eyes narrowed suspiciously, "I've got a bone to pick with you. Why did Potter corner me the other day to babble on about Marcella Crouch's book for half an hour? I know he didn't pick it up himself."

"What can I say," said Remus smiling, "he was interested in some more highbrow literature. How could I deny him the opportunity?"

Lily laughed at that, "Oh, I think I know exactly what he was doing, and it was nothing to do with expanding his literary horizons."

"You know, Lily, maybe if you just gave him a chance you might find out he's not as arrogant as you think."

"Are we talking about the same James Potter that told Mary MacDonald she needed a paper bag to hide her face behind?"

"That was two years ago – he'd matured a lot since then. Well, matured slightly, perhaps," Remus amended at the sight of Lily's raised eyebrows. "At the very least he's trying Lily, that has to count for something, right?"

Lily looked a little taken aback at that. _Score one for James, _Remus thought to himself.

"So, Remus," said Julia looking meeting his eyes, "are you planning on going to Hogsmeade next weekend?"

Remus heard Sirius huff loudly and shift around in the seat next to him.

"Eh, yeah I am," said Remus surprised. "Why, do we need another Prefect to monitor the young ones?"

Julia grinned, "No, I was just wondering if you wanted to meet up?"

"Oh!" he caught Lily giving him a knowing smile and felt the blood rise to his face. "Eh, well, actually," he shot Sirius a sidelong glance, "we actually have something already planned for that weekend. Guy stuff, you know."

"Does it involve dung bombs and bat-bogey hexes?" laughed Julia, not at all daunted by Remus's rebuff.

"Yeah, something like that," Remus grinned back at her. "But a prankster can never reveal his secrets."

"Oh, bloody hell," Sirius snapped suddenly, getting up from his chair. He stalked across to the other side of the class where there was cabinet containing an array of Muggle trinkets.

"What's pissed him off," said Lily coldly, staring at the back of Sirius's dark head.

Remus shrugged. "He's had a rough couple of weeks."

"I heard he left home," she said, "is it true, then?"

"Eh, yeah, it is," Remus said hesitantly. "But don't mention to him – not unless you want to have your head bitten off."

Julia looked over at Sirius, concern showing in her face, "Poor guy. I never realised he had such a bad home life. He always seems so happy."

"He hides it well, most of the time," agreed Remus. "He'll be okay in a few weeks, hopefully."

The rest of the double-lesson passed quickly, and soon the bell rang for the start of morning break. Sirius rejoined Remus and they left the class together, heading to courtyard to meet James and Peter.

"Are you going to ask her out, or what?" Sirius said brusquely, as they were buffeted about in the crowded corridor. Remus just narrowly avoided tripping over a first-year who had stopped in the middle of the crowd to tie his shoelace.

"Who, Julia? You don't think she really – really likes me, do you?" he said when he had regained his balance.

"Jesus Christ, Moony, why is it so outside the realm of possibility that someone might fancy you?"

"Well, if it upsets you this much, I guess I could ask her out."

"That wasn't exactly what I meant," Sirius said awkwardly.

"Well, what were you getting at?" Remus asked, annoyed at Sirius's evasiveness. "You don't like Julia, do you?"

"Look it doesn't matter just drop it, okay?" he sighed exasperatedly as they walked into the courtyard. "Merlin, Remus, sometimes even Peter's more clued up than you."

* * *

Later that evening, Remus found himself perched on the end of his bed surrounded by piles of books he and Peter had picked up from the library. James was causing a commotion on the other side of the room, throwing the contents of his trunk around the dormitory as he searched for his missing Quidditch glove.

"Where the hell is it?" he yelled as a pair of blue socks went sailing past Remus's nose.

"How the hell would we know where your gloves are?" demanded Peter, who was checking himself in the mirror before he went to meet Mildred. "We're not your

mother."

"Something I thank Merlin for everyday, Pete," muttered Sirius from the floor beneath Remus's feet. He was stretched out on his stomach, flicking lazily through a tatty library book. His bad mood from earlier seemed to have abated slightly after chicken drumsticks – his favourite food – had been served for dinner that evening.

"Aha!" cried James triumphantly, unearthing the glove from behind the headboard of his bed. "Okay, I'm off. You sure you aren't coming for tryouts, Padfoot?"

"No, I think the team can manage fine without me this year."

"Suit yourself, but if we lose to Hufflepuff I'm holding _you_ personally responsible."

"The only way Leven could catch the snitch is if it flew up his arse. You've got nothing to worry about."

"See you later then," said Peter as he joined James by the door.

"Peter, what's happened to your hair?" said Remus in shock as he glanced up from his book.

Peter's hand flew automatically to his spiked up hair, "You like it? I got some hair-gel in Diagon Alley."

"Eh, yeah – I mean – well, it just makes you look _different_, I guess," replied Remus as tactfully as possible, kicking Sirius swiftly in the ribs before he could make a sarcastic comment.

"What was that for?" gasped Sirius, rolling over to look up at Remus, clutching his ribs, as the dormitory door closed after Peter and James.

"Don't knock that boy's confidence more than you already have."

"I was only going to stop him from going out looking as though he'd just been Stunned," he said indignantly. "I'd call that more of a public service than anything else."

Remus laughed at that. "So are you going to tell me what today's epic bad mood was about?"

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on Sirius, you've had more mood-swings today than I could count. What was in the letter this morning?"

"Just leave it Remus, I really don't want to go into it tonight." He looked tired, and Remus didn't have the heart to push him any further.

"Okay. Let's get started on this reading now they've gone."

"Well, this book's useless," Sirius said dismissively. "It doesn't talk about tracking spells at all." He lobbed the textbook across the room.

"Oi!" said Remus. "_I'm_ the one who has to take these books back to Madam Pince, she'll eat me alive if they're damaged."

"Oh, come one, that old crone? She's loved you ever since third year when you had that conversation about her favourite book. What was it again?"

"_The Count of Monte Cristo. _It's about a jailbreak. You should read it, might come in useful one day."

"Hah! I would never get caught."

"After the number detentions you've had, I beg to differ."

They continued to work their way through the stack of library books, sorting them into smaller piles of _useful _and _useless. _

"I think Peter's idea of a map would be the best," Remus said after an hour of skimming through a collection of essays on tracking spells. "That way all four of us can use it, and it will leaves no trace that Slytherins could pick up on." He extracted '_A History of Wizarding Mapmaking' _from the stack of unsorted books and flicked through it, "All these are landscape maps though, rather than used for tracking individual people. I don't know if anyone's attempted this kind of map before."

"Well, we could start by drawing the map of the castle first?" said Sirius, kneeling up to look at the book Remus had spread open on the bed. "Then we can focus on how to get the people on it afterwards."

"It's going to take an awful long time. Each room has to traced around for it to work, and Merlin knows how many rooms there are in this castle It's next to impossible."

"If we'd told you about the Animagus transformation, you would've said the same thing – and we did that." Sirius's determined eyes met Remus's.

"You're right," Remus conceded. They began to make notes about the details of map-making. Sirius was scribbling some instruction down in his hasty scrawl, when the nib of his quill broke of with a snap –

"Bugger! Moony, can I borrow a quill?"

"Yeah, sure." said Remus, not really listening. He was vaguely aware of Sirius rummaging around in his trunk, but he was too busy reading his textbook to take much notice.

In retrospect, the silence should have warmed him of the storm that was about to erupt.

"Remus?"

"Hmmm?" He shifted the book closer to his eyes so he could read the small font.

"_Remus, what the fuck is this?_" Sirius demanded angrily.

He looked up from the textbook to see Sirius standing by his trunk, a purple leaflet open in his hands.

"Oh, shit."

"_Rehabilitation Scheme? _Remus, what - what -" Sirius appeared lost for words, looking at Remus with wild, confused eyes.

Remus took a deep breath; there was nothing else for it but to tell Sirius the truth. "Okay, I was going to tell you anyway, but – but I've signed up for this Ministry Rehabilitation Scheme. So I – I won't be able to transform with you guys in the Shack anymore." Sirius remained stonily silent, so Remus plunged on, relieved in some way that he could let out what he'd been bottling up all summer. "I'll have to transform in the Ministry, but the transformation will be supervised and it'll be safer and…" his voice trailed off.

What were the benefits of the Scheme that his parents kept reminding him about? Looking into Sirius's crestfallen face, Remus could not remember a single one.

The steady _tick-tocks _of Peter's alarm clock cut through the silence of the dormitory like gun-fire. Distant yells from the Quidditch pitch drifted in from the window that lay slightly ajar. Sirius was still standing at the foot of Remus's bed, reading through the Ministry pamphlet.

"Why are you doing this?" His voice sounded raw and ragged, and his bewildered eyes searched Remus's for some hint of explanation. "Is it because of Snape – because of _me_?"

A sudden flash of suppressed resentment flared up inside Remus. He thought for a minute about saying yes, that he was doing this because of Sirius, just so Sirius would feel as hurt and betrayed as Remus had felt after the Snape incident. But when he saw how Sirius looked lost, like a little boy that had stumbled into a situation that was too big for him, he felt his anger die down.

"No. It's not because of you. It's my parents. I –" he took a deep breath. "They asked me to do this. I have to do it; it's safer this way."

"Since when have you cared about that?"

"I don't really but –"

"But what? You don't have to do this because of them! It's your life Remus."

"You don't understand – they've made themselves paupers for me, Sirius! They need this money! My mother has worn the same clothes for as long as I can remember. My father's never home, always pulling extra shifts to try and bring in a little extra money. Money which they'll only fritter away on supposed 'cures' that you and I both know'll never work!"

He didn't know at what point he rose from the bed, but he found himself standing in front of Sirius, chest heaving with rage. Sirius was staring down at his feet, shoulders braced, as though he was waiting for Remus to hit him again.

Abruptly, Remus turned away from him and walked over the end of James's bed. His hand clenched one of the bed posts, trying to siphon off his anger. There was a long score in the post, revealing the lighter wood that lay under the thick layer of dark varnish. Remus worked his finger along the groove, thinking about the circumstances that had caused it.

There had been a few mishaps in the early days after Sirius, James and Peter had completed the Animagus transformation. Still getting to grips with their new ability, they would often transform inadvertently when their concentration slipped. There was nothing quite like waking up one morning to see a fully grown stag wrestling with a tangle of bedsheets. On that occasion Prongs had, in his bewilderment, speared his antler through that particular bedpost, collapsing the bed's canopy on top of him. It had taken a lot of persistence to get Professor McGonagall to buy the lie that it was a especially violent Fanged-Frisbee of Peter's that had sawn through the bedpost in the night.

Remus also remembered their three shining, eager faces on one dull December morning in the Hospital Wing, when they had revealed their great achievement to him. Remus had thought they had been avoiding him with their constant sneaking off – that the other Marauders had finally realised that you just _couldn't _be friends with a werewolf. But actually they had been working on something that would change his life forever; something that would make the fullmoon not only bearable, but enjoyable.

He was trading all that now; trading it for a cage in the Ministry alone, instead of the Shrieking Shack with his friends.

The sound of Sirius clearing his throat behind him brought Remus abruptly back to the present. "Remus, you can't think – the Ministry's not exactly had a great track record when it's come to helping you before, why would they help now?"

"I know, I said the same thing to my parents… I guess I just have to take my chances."

Sirius looked at him incredulously, "Did you see the Daily Prophet this morning?"

"Yes, Sirius, I fucking saw it, and it's just one more reason why I have to comply with the scheme! It'll only be a few weeks before it becomes mandatory anyway, and it'll look better to them if they see that I signed up voluntarily. I'm not going to be a rebel. There's more at stake here than my pride."

Remus sat back down on his bed; the adrenaline rush was making him feel shaky. He felt the mattress dip as Sirius sat down beside him, the garish purple pamphlet still clutched in his hands.

"It says here that you have to go for a preliminary assessment," he said. "Before your first transformation there. The full moon's a week on Monday, when are you going for it?"

"Next week."

Next week! Christ, Moony, when were you going to tell us?" Sirius put his face in his hands, and his fingers gripped his hair.

"Look, it's not that I – it's not that I don't appreciate what you and James and Peter have done for me," Remus said. "Those full moons we had in the Shack, Sirius those were the best nights of my life. And – and I don't want you guys to think I don't care, but I didn't know what else to do..." His voice trailed away to whisper.

He took a steadying breath and hoped Sirius had not heard the quaver in his voice. "This scheme, it might not be the best thing, but at least it'll stop my parents from worrying so much. Maybe it will let them get their lives back. I owe them that much at least."

The silence was punctuated by shrieks from the Common Room below, and the faintly-putrid smell of a Dungbomb seeped under the dormitory door. Remus was just about to speak again when Sirius opened his mouth.

"The letter was from my mother," he said, apropos of nothing. "The one this morning."

"I guessed it was."

"Yeah… she wants me to get married."

"_What?!" _Remus exclaimed, completely dumbfounded.

"Yeah, I know," Sirius said grimly. "She wants me to meet this eligible pureblood girl she's matched me with. The families have it all arranged it seems."

"But you left. I thought she wouldn't want to see you again?"

"That's what I thought, but apparently the shame of the firstborn not only being in Gryffindor, but also a runaway from home was too much for her to bear. She hasn't told anyone I left. She says unless I marry this girl, I'll be disinherited," his fists clenched compulsively. "I know I don't care about that stuff, and I'm _not_ going to let her push me around anymore, so she can just forget about this twisted marriage farce. It's _my_ life and I'll be fucked if I ever set foot in that house again."

"So you're saying I should do what you're doing and tell my parents to go fuck themselves?" Remus asked irritably.

"No," Sirius replied calmly. "I'm saying I know how difficult it is to go against your parents' wishes."

"I _was _going to tell you about the Scheme, you know."

"I know."

"I just didn't know how to say it."

Sirius handed the pamphlet back to Remus, his expression resolute.

"Parents fuck us up the worst," he said.


	5. The Ministry of Magic

5.

On Thursday morning, Remus found himself sitting in a chair in the headmaster's office, trying to ignore the stares of the portraits, as Dumbledore addressed him. It was very early in the morning, so early that the only light was a faint pinkish tinge on the eastern horizon and the racket of the early rising songbirds drifted in through the slightly ajar window. The headmaster had arranged to see Remus before he left for the Ministry to sign on to the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme and have his preliminary assessment.

After Sirius discovered what Remus was planning to do the week before, Remus had also told James and Peter about the Scheme. Their reactions were not as volatile as Sirius's had been, but Remus could see that they were pretty upset. They were understanding though, and all of them, Sirius included, had wished Remus good luck the previous evening. Remus had managed to sneak quietly out of the dormitory this morning without waking the others – he didn't fancy having a big dramatic send-off as James and Sirius were likely to do. It had been a very weird experience sitting eating breakfast in the Great Hall alone, a house-elf from the kitchen had brought up a stack of buttered toast for him and Remus had managed to force down a slice of it out of politeness. He really hadn't felt like eating, and the toast was now lying like lead in his churning stomach.

"Well, Remus," said Dumbledore, fixing Remus with his light-blue stare, "I have no problem giving you permission to attend this Scheme, but I just want to be sure of something first: you _are_ comfortable with following this programme?"

"Erm, well, yes," Remus shifted under the Headmaster's penetrating gaze. "I mean, I've thought about all the ramifications and I think it's something I have to do."

"Have to do or want to do?"

Remus's mouth twisted into a rueful smile.

"I you tell what," Dumbledore drew a sheaf of parchment out of a desk drawer and lifted his quill from its holder, "if you're willing, I can write a note to the Ministry saying that on consideration, it would be best that you only transform in their premises every second month. After all we wouldn't want it to interfere with your studies."

"You think that would work?" said Remus eagerly, hope rising in his belly.

"Well, let's just say I hold some sway with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the moment," said Dumbledore his eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles.

A smile broke over Remus's face. This was the perfect solution to his quandary: he would still be able to spend some full moons with the Marauders, and he knew his parents would never dream of disputing an idea of Dumbledore's.

"The other thing I would say to you Remus," continued Dumbledore as he wrote, "is that Ministry, even with the best will in the world, often loses sight of it's own goals. You've seen the Daily Prophet this week, and I'm sure you're aware of the pressures the Minister for Magic is under to ensure no more join the ranks of Lord Voldemort's expanding army. Edmir Gillespie is a very stressed man. He did not sign up to govern a war. But, if you keep your wits about you, there is no reason why you should suffer any harm."

"Do you think there will be a war, sir?" asked Remus.

"I am afraid, Remus," said Dumbledore, his voice grave, "that that outcome is one of the few things we can be certain of at this time."

The headmaster signed the end of the note with a flourish and handed it over to Remus, along with his letter from the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme and the pink scrap of parchment that gave Remus permission to leave the castle.

Dumbledore smiled at Remus, "I would, under normal circumstances, allow you to Floo from my fireplace here, but Mr Filch discovered a nest of Ashwinder eggs inside the chimney on Tuesday, and I haven't gotten around to removing them yet. I don't think it wise to light the fire at present – we don't want another pantomime incident, do we?"

Remus wasn't sure what the 'pantomime incident' was, but he nodded politely anyway.

"For now you can use the fireplace in the Entrance Hall, I had a house-elf light it earlier for you. Also, you cannot floo directly into the Ministry unless you are an employee, so you will have to use the visitor's entrance once you arrive in London."

"Thank you, sir," said Remus as he rose from the chair and took the pouch of Floo Powder Dumbledore handed him.

"It's no trouble at all, Remus." Dumbledore stood and walked Remus over to the door of his office.

He had just stepped onto the moving spiral staircase when Dumbledore said, "Oh, and Remus, keep an eye on your sponsor." And on that enigmatic note the headmaster closed his office door.

Mentally steeling himself for the day that lay ahead of him, Remus hurried down the marble staircases to the Entrance Hall. He was taken by surprise when he saw someone was waiting for him by the fireplace in the form of a sleep-tousled, but fully dressed Sirius, who was lounging nonchalantly against the stone mantelpiece.

"What are you doing here?" Remus asked as he walked across the Hall to him, footsteps echoing off the flagstones.

"I'm coming with you, of course." Sirius flashed Remus a wining smile.

"And I guess there isn't anything I can say to get you to change your mind?"

"Nope," said Sirius jovially. "Anyway, I have some business at the Ministry that needs to be sorted out."

Remus snorted. "You can't get Regulus exported to Siberia."

"Maybe not, but I can see if it's possible for me to keep my inheritance if my mother doesn't disown me before I come of age."

"How very Dickensian of you."

"You know, sometimes even I can't keep up with your obscure references," said Sirius, taking a pinch of floo powder from the pouch Remus handed him.

"He was a Muggle novelist." Remus threw a pinch of the glittering powder into the fire and stepped into the emerald flames that sprang up. He didn't hear Sirius's reply as he was whisked away by the flames, spinning past grate upon grate until he was eventually spat out at his destination.

He looked around the room he had landed in apprehensively, when with a slight _pop _Sirius was expelled from the fireplace beside him.

"Well," said Sirius shaking the soot of his robes and taking in their surroundings, "I always imagined the Ministry of Magic to be a bit more grand than this."

They were standing in the back-room of what looked like a disused Muggle office building. There was no other furniture or signs in the room and if it wasn't for the large, ornate and obviously magical fireplace that stood behind them, Remus would have thought they had come out of at the wrong grate.

"That's 'cause we aren't at the Ministry yet," he said to Sirius, walking towards the room's door. "Dumbledore said the visitor's entrance is concealed outside somewhere."

They walked along the dreary corridor of the office block and out of a broken fire-exit to a dingy backstreet outside. The street was completely deserted, and there was no sign that the entrance to the Wizarding government was anywhere in the vicinity. The other buildings that surrounded them were all empty, even the pub's doors were locked up. As it was only seven o'clock in the morning, there were no other people around. The only thing that looked out of place to Remus, was a vandalised phonebox, its scarlet paint glowing brightly in the dingy street. He pointed this out to Sirius.

"Would it kill Dumbledore not to be so cryptic for once?" muttered Sirius as they approached the phonebox. They squeezed themselves inside with some difficulty – the door was partially hanging off its hinges – the telephone receiver was hanging down toward the ground, and the burr of the dial tone echoed in the small booth. The two boys looked around the booth for some sort of sign that they were on the right track, something which wasn't a particularly easy task – the interior walls of the phonebox were plastered with business cards for streetwalkers and all sorts of other sleazy establishments. Sirius toyed with one of the cards thoughtfully, while Remus scanned the walls frantically, panic rising inside him; surely there must be some instructions on how to get into the Ministry.

He was just about to give up the phonebox as a dead-end when his eyes fell on a purple card above the phone, directly at his eye level. It was placed on top of all the other tatty business cards and was very clean. Remus could have sworn the purple card was glowing slightly. He read, in green letters, TO REACH THE MAGIC CALL: 62442.

It was worth a try – the last thing Remus wanted was to be late for his appointment – and he hastily punched the five numbers into the phone.

Relief flooded him when a cheerful female voice filled the phonebox: "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Eh, Remus Lupin," he said into the receiver nervously, "I'm here to sign up for the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme." He passed the receiver somewhat awkwardly to Sirius, as there was a clanking sound from the phone and a silver badge shot out of the change chute. _Remus Lupin - werewolf_ it read.

_Well I've always said subtlety was the best policy, _Remus thought wryly as the pinned the badge onto the breast of his robes.

He glanced over at Sirius who was pinning his own badge on: _Sirius Black - werewolf tamer._

"What on earth did you tell them?" Remus spluttered, as Sirius smirked and the phonebox juddered underground.

After a few minutes, the phonebox descended into the lobby of the Ministry. Remus could see that even at this early hour, the place was already swarming with Ministry workers. The phonebox came to a rest and Remus pushed the door open and stepped out onto the glossy wooden floor as the the welcome-witch's voice sang "Visitors are required to register their wands at the security desk at the far end of the Atrium. The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant day."

He looked over his shoulder to Sirius who slid a square of card from the phonebox wall into the pocket of his robes; a slight blush appeared on his cheeks as he noticed Remus had seen him.

"I don't even want to know" Remus said resignedly.

They stood for a few moments, trying to gather their bearings in the tumult of the busy Atrium. Sirius nudged Remus on the shoulder and pointed to a sign that directed them to the security desk at the other side of the hall. They walk past a large golden fountain and past a breakfast cart, where the long, spiralling queue of Ministry workers waiting to be served blocked the flow of traffic in the Atrium.

Remus and Sirius squeezed between two overweight wizards who were waiting in the line, to reach the security desk behind them. There was one witch behind the desk, who looked not much older than Remus or Sirius. Her freckled face was hidden behind large glasses and her curly hair was pulled up in a tight bun. A deep blush coloured her cheeks as Sirius handed his wand over with his most charming smile.

"You had a busy morning?" Sirius asked, the old Black-charm firmly in place.

"Well, it's a lot better since you showed up." The witch fluttered her eyelashes coquettishly, as she weighed his wand. "They've had me on night-shift the last two days, I haven't been able to sleep a wink."

"Why would they do such a thing to a pretty woman like yourself?"

The witch smiled at the compliment, as she handed Sirius's wand back over and stuck a slip of parchment on the little spike on her desk. She held out her hand for Remus's wand which he promptly handed over. When she placed his wand on the scales, a red slip of parchment shot out of the base this time. The witch jumped slightly in her seat as she read it, and her eyes immediately looked up for Remus's badge.

"I - I have to keep this wand, Mr Lupin," she stammered, backing slowly away from the counter as though Remus was likely to jump over it and maul her at any second.

"What do you mean?" Sirius said harshly, all trace of flirting gone.

"The Werewolf Code of Conduct, 1637, section 73 states that no werewolf can enter Ministry of Magic premises armed," she recited looking at Remus with wide, frightened eyes.

"It's okay, I'll come back for it later," said Remus as politely as he could, while dragging Sirius, who was now positively snarling, away from the security desk.

"Bigoted bitch!" Sirius yelled.

"I think she heard you," Remus said in an undertone, acutely aware that the eyes of everyone in the breakfast-cart queue were focused on them.

"I don't care!" Sirius continued vehemently. "Half my family are murderous, inbred lunatics – they're more of a danger than you are."

"I am a Dark Creature – something which you could do with remembering more often."

A hefty middle-aged witch who had been watching them from the queue caught sight of Remus's badge: "Oh Merlin's soul, he's a_ werewolf!"_ she shrieked. Everyone in the vicinity stopped what they were doing to stare aghast at Remus.

Before Remus could think what to do, he felt Sirius's strong hand grip his upper arm and pull him away from the staring faces, towards the lifts. It was a good thing too, as Remus's legs seemed to have stopped working. Sirius guided him into an open lift and a swarm of Ministry workers crowded in behind them. Little tiny Scops owls were sitting on perches above their heads, delivering inter-departmental memos.

An older, white-haired wizard turned to smile at the two boys, noticing their Hogwarts robes. "You boys here on on work experience?" he asked genially.

"Yes,"said Remus automatically, mind still whirling from what had just happened.

""Don't worry," the wizard said to Remus kindly, mistaking the reason for his uneasiness. "I was just as shell-shocked as you when I first started here. It's a very big and busy place and –" he broke off suddenly when his eyes fell on Remus's badge, and he quickly left the lift at the next stop.

Remus slumped back against the lift wall. He knew he had been sheltered from the outside world during his years at Hogwarts, and Remus had read everything about werewolves that he could lay his hands on, but none of that had prepared him for the stares, for the outright hatred in strangers' eyes. He felt drained already; if it hadn't been for Sirius's solid presence at his side, he would have just turned around at left the Ministry before he could be subjected to anymore humiliation

"Ignore them, Moony," Sirius said quietly, his breath warm in Remus's ear. "They're all gits."

The lift's golden grilles slid open as the welcome-witch's voice chimed "Level four, Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, incorporating the Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions."

The boys pushed past the remaining witches and wizards in the lift, and out into the corridor. A signpost stood in front of them, to the right the sign pointed _BEING, _and to the left _BEAST. _With a sigh, Remus turned left and glanced at his watch – it was already 8.50am and his appointment was scheduled for nine o'clock.

"Come on," he said to Sirius who was lagging behind him.

"Lead the way, you wild beast."

They hurried past the Centaur Office, where a lone wizard was building a house of cards while listening to the WWN; past a line of nervous House-Elves waiting outside the Elf Relocation Office. Two wizards barged past the boys talking animatedly: "Have you seen the cages they're going into? Pure silver, they'll be completely incapacitated." The wizards entered the next office which was signed as the Werewolf Capture Unit. Finally, at the very end of the corridor, lay the Werewolf Registry Office.

Remus stepped up to the reception desk, where a receptionist was busy curling her eyelashes with her wand.

"Em, excuse me," Remus ventured, when the witch made no attempt to do her job, "My name's Remus Lupin, I'm here to sign up for the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme."

"Yeh got yer appointment card there?" she asked, checking her reflection in the highly-polished tabletop.

"Here you go." He handed over his appointment card which the witch sent into a room off the reception, to Remus's right. "Take a seat, someone will be out shortly." She returned to her eyelash administrations as Remus and Sirius sat down on two plastic seats in the waiting area.

There was no one else waiting to be seen besides besides Remus. The waiting area reminded him of some of the ghastly Healers' surgeries he had been dragged to by his parents. There was a notice-board on the far wall where the Ministry workers had pinned newspaper clippings of werewolf attacks, in what was a clearly misguided attempt at being comforting. A fish-tank containing a few Plimpies bubbled noisily in the corner. The low coffee table in front of Remus was littered with various leaflets containing information and advice, from how to properly enclose a werewolf at the fullmoon, to the consequences of being listed on the Werewolf Register.

A short, balding man came out of the room the receptionist had sent his appointment card to. "R. Lupin?" he called gruffly.

"That's me," Remus said.

"Need you to fill out this form before I take you through," the short man said, handing Remus a thick form. "Just fill out all the necessary details, and make sure everything is correct." The wizard the glanced at another door off the reception that was marked 'Head of Department Office', and, raising his voice, he said, "We will run our own background checks werewolf, and if any of the information doesn't match up you will face a harsh penalty."

Remus swallowed and started filling out the form. There were pages and pages of questions, most of which Remus felt were a little too intrusive for his liking. He paused his quill over the box marked 'sexual orientation'.

Sirius, who had been watching him like a hawk for the past few minutes, noticed Remus's pause.

"What's that got to do with anything?" he barked at the man, finger pointing to the prying question.

"The Ministry of Magic does not need to justify its policies to an underage wizard," the man replied smugly. "Why don't you go on down to the cafeteria?"

"Like I'm going anywhere." Sirius crossed his arms across his chest and planted his feet firmly on the ground, staring the short wizard down.

"It's okay, Sirius," Remus said, as he finished the last question and signed the form. "I'll be back in a moment."

"He your brother or something?" the wizard asked, as he lead Remus into the room he came from.

"Or something," Remus confirmed. He followed the man through to a large room which was divided into cubicles for the department's workers. The short wizard indicated Remus should take a seat before his wooden desk in his cubicle, which was overflowing with files and scraps of parchment. He began to shuffle through the tottering piles of parchment, muttering under his breath.

"Lupin, Lupin, Lupin – let's see. Ah, here it is," he extracted and old, tatty file from the stack and opened it. "Sorry I was a bit blunt back there with your friend," he continued apologetically, "but we have a new head of department, and she's quite the battleaxe, if you know what I mean. Lots of changes to how we run things here and how we conduct ourselves – I can't say I agree with them all, but self-preservation comes first, which I'm sure you know only too well. My name's Barnaby Rutkin by the way."

Rutkin gave Remus a strained smile and spread the contents of the file over the small clearing he'd made on his desktop. Remus was surprised at the amount of information the Ministry had on him; there photos of him as a child, and photos of the livid gash on his shoulder where he had been bitten. There was even a copy of his acceptance letter to Hogwarts.

"Okay, I just need to ask you to confirm some of your details before we continue – in the interests of security and all that bunkum. You are Remus John Lupin?"

"Yes," said Remus.

"Son of John and Elena Lupin?"

"Yes."

"You were born on the tenth of March, 1960?"

"Yes."

"And you were bitten on the twenty-second of December, 1964?" Remus nodded in affirmation. "Do you remember anything about it?" Rutkin asked offhandedly. "No, not many of your kind do. Of course, the brain has an astounding ability to block out traumatic memories."

_Clearly not, or I'd be blocking this out, _Remus thought to himself.

"Now, if you'd just sign here, and again over the page. We'll use this information to update your file on the Werewolf Register. Now, your identification number is 57226 if anyone asks. If you would just take a seat outside again and Dolores, your sponsor, will be with you shortly. Good to see you again, Remus." Barnaby Rutkin shook Remus's hand.

As he entered the reception area again, Sirius jumped to his feet. "You okay," he asked, grey eyes roving Remus as though checking for physical wounds.

"I'm fine. I've got to wait here to meet with my sponsor now. It should be a few more minutes." Something of his nervousness must have shown on his face, because Sirius clapped him on his shoulder and said "I'm staying here – don't worry."

He sat back down on the plastic seat again, he couldn't stop himself from drumming his feet on the floor as though he could stamp out his nerves. A few minutes had passed, when the door of the head of department's office opposite them burst open and a squat, toad-like witch stepped out.

"Werewolf 57226," she called briskly. "57226!"

"Eh, that's me," said Remus getting awkwardly to his feet. "I mean, my name's Remus Lupin."

The stubby little witch said nothing, but a look of extreme distaste crossed her broad face as she walked back into her office, leaving the door open.

"You better go in, Moony," Sirius said giving him a nudge towards the witch's office.

It was like stepping into an overstuffed teashop. Every surface in the witch's office was covered in lace doilies, vases of pungent flowers and on the walls grotesque kittens gambolled about on pink patterned plates. Remus dropped into a chair in front of the witch's mahogany desk. In between two overstuffed vases, he saw a small nameplate that read _Dolores Jane Umbridge - Head of Department. _Remus looked up at Umbridge, who had settled behind her desk with the air of a slimy creature settling into its lair. He noticed that her seat was considerably higher than Remus's, so that Umbridge looked down on him as though passing judgement. A few seconds passed, and Umbridge made no move other than to stare at Remus with pale bug-eyes.

"I – eh – I'm looking forward to this scheme," Remus began to babble hurriedly, shifting under her intense gaze, "you know, I've been given a lot of different remedies and stuff, but I think this one will–"

"You are aware that you a known terror suspect?" Umbridge cut in sharply. "And you will be treated as such. Do _not_ talk to any member of staff here unless you have been asked a direct question."

Remus bristled, affronted.

Umbridge opened Remus's file and extracted the note Dumbledore had written that morning. Her bulbous eyes narrowed as she skimmed down the parchment, and when she looked back up at Remus he could see she was most annoyed.

"You asked Professor Dumbledore to write this?" she accused, jowls quivering.

"No," Remus said, "he thought it would be a good idea. He said if I come to the Ministry every second month, it won't be so disruptive to my studies."

Umbridge's eyes flashed at that. "If I had been in the Department at that time, there would have been absolutely no chance of you attending Hogwarts – no matter who the Headmaster may have been."

She read the letter again. Under her breath, Remus heard her mutter "Always sticking that crooked nose where it doesn't belong. As if he doesn't know that we need his vote." She took out a sheaf of parchment from a drawer and loaded a quill. "I will agree to this second monthly transformation, provided that you comply completely with the rest of the scheme."

Relief bubbled through Remus, and it must have shown, for Umbridge spat acidly, "I mean it werewolf, this is no special treatment; if you put one toe out of line you will feel the force of the entire Ministry come crashing down on you, and you will never get out from under it."

She took a a small notebook from the file, emblazoned with the Ministry's crest. "This is a monitoring-book," she said. "You will be expected to get it signed everyday and returned to the Ministry. If you fail to return a slip, even if it's just one day, we will treat that as an act of terrorism against Wizarding society and you will face a criminal trial. Do I make myself clear, werewolf?"

"Perfectly," said Remus, biting back his anger. "But who shall I get to sign the book?"

Umbridge's face stretched into a leery smile, "Don't want anyone at school to know, do we? Well, I think it _appropriate _that more people should be aware of what kind of scum they share their school with – Mudbloods and half-breeds and werewolves." She shoved the notebook across the table to Remus, carefully making sure that her hand didn't touch his. "You will get _each_ of your class teachers to sign it everyday – no exceptions."

Remus stuffed the monitoring book into his pocket. Getting every one of his professors to sign the book would mean letting more people in on his secret – only Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey already knew of his Lycanthropy. Not only that, but walking around with a notebook with the words Werewolf Monitoring Book emblazoned across the covers would only increase the chance of his other classmates finding out too.

But Remus knew he had no choice; it was either this or lose the fullmoons with his friends, and, as always, his friends won out.

"Go down to the ground floor, werewolf, and the Healers will be waiting for you. I'd rather them than me – my god, the smell of so many unwashed half-breeds must be unbearable." She settled back into her seat, smirking, as Remus got up jerkily from his seat and left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Grabbing a startled Sirius from his seat as he passed, Remus strode out of the Werewolf Registry Office, down the long corridor and back into the lift. He hammered the button for the bottom floor as the golden grilles shuddered closed. The lift was empty besides himself and Sirius, the morning rush-hour being over, and Remus was glad; he didn't trust his response if he had to endure another loathsome stare from a stranger.

After a few minutes the lift came to a halt on the ground floor of the Ministry. It was very dark and empty down here, the only light came from torches burning in holders along the passage. At one end of the corridor stood an nondescript black door, but at the other end of the corridor there was a set of glass double-doors behind which Remus could see people dressed in the lime green robes of Healers.

As the two boys approached the doors, a ginger-haired Healer stepped out before them. "Do you have an appointment?" he asked curtly.

"Yes," said Remus and he showed the Healer the identity card he'd been given by Barnaby Rutkin. "I had my preliminary assessment for the Rehabilitation Scheme this morning, and my sponsor sent me down here."

"Okay, and what about you," the Healer turned to Sirius.

"I'm just here as a friend."

"Well, I can't let you come through here – this ward is for authorised personnel only. You'll just have to wait in the Atrium until we're finished."

"You go and see the Law Department about your inheritance stuff," Remus said to Sirius, who looked unsure. "Go on, it's what you came here for, and I'll be fine."

"Well, okay, but I'll be waiting here when you're finished," Sirius said, and he reluctantly turned back towards the lift.

"Follow me," the Healer said to Remus as he entered the ward.

It was like no hospital ward Remus had ever seen. Along the left hand side there were a series of forty or fifty small, silver-meshed cages. Along the other side there were some rooms that contained beds, and others that contained all sorts of medical equipment.

As Remus followed the Healer down the ward, an old scraggly man, stopped in the middle of the corridor and said loudly to Remus "They're fuckers, all of 'em who work here. You hold your head up boy, show 'em they've got no grounds to disrespect you because of what you are one day outta a month."

"Get going, 6039," the Healer said viciously to the older werewolf. "And don't let me catch your thieving hide down here until Monday night!"

The old werewolf growled under his breath, but he left the ward anyway.

Remus followed the Healer into a medical exam room, where the walls were lined with all sorts of ghastly equipment.

"Okay," said the Healer, closing the door to the room and putting on a pair of surgical gloves. "Take your robes off, 57226, and stand on these scales."

Feeling completely humiliated, Remus undressed himself and stood on the scales to be weighed. The ginger-haired Healer wrote down the results on yet another file, and then set about taking a measurements of Remus's body.

"Waste of my time doing this," he muttered, as he measured the length and breadth of the bite on Remus's shoulder. "There are real people who need help, and I've got to spend all my time down here with the great unwashed."

He laid his tape measure down on a table, and lifted a leather muzzle off a hook on the wall, and began to fit it around Remus's head. "Expands as you transform," the Healer told Remus, as he adjusted the straps, "that way we can be sure your instincts won't get the better of you."

Before Remus could reply, the door of the room opened and a younger, curly-haired Healer peered around the door. "Sorry to disturb," he said, "but Dolores wants you upstairs, Martin."

"You take over here, Belby" said the ginger Healer, snapping off his gloves and dropping them on the floor. "You seem to value these beasts so highly, I'll assign you this one as well. If it was up to me, I'd have had them all shot as soon as they got bitten."

"Don't listen to him," the new Healer said to Remus, when the first Healer left the room. "Come on, you can put your robes back on, and let's get that godawful muzzle off you ."

He handed the bundle of robes to Remus who pulled them on thankfully, and the Healer unbuckled the straps of the muzzle, lifting it off of Remus's head.

"Thanks," said Remus gratefully.

"Don't mention it," replied the Healer cheerfully. "I'm Healer Damocles Belby by the way, but you can just call me Damocles. What's your name?"

"Eh, 5722–" began Remus.

"Oh, I don't mean all that I.D. Number shite!" Damocles said exasperatedly. "You're real name, you're human after all, no matter what the bastards upstairs think. What?" he said in response to Remus's shocked face, "you never heard someone swear before?"

"No, it's just that you're the first person I've talked to all day who makes sense."

Damocles threw his head back and laughed loudly. "Oh, that's a good one! I think you and me are going to get on well kid. So what's your name?"

"Remus, Remus Lupin."

"Lupin, eh?" said Damocles looking thoughtful. "You're parents John and Elena?"

"Yeah," said Remus, "do you know them?"

"I was at school with them, I knew Elena pretty well. How's she doing?"

"Yeah, okay I guess given the circumstances."

"The circumstances of raising a werewolf?" asked Damocles as he listened to Remus's chest with a stethoscope. "Yeah, I'm sure that takes its toll."

Remus stood silently for a few minutes as Damocles continued to examine him, shining a torch into Remus eyes and ears.

"So, I take it that you've had a rough morning?" he asked as he packed away the medial instruments "Who's your sponsor?"

"Dolores Umbridge" Remus said resentfully.

Damocles sucked in a breath, "Unlucky, kid! She's a real bitch. You should see the anti-employment bill she's trying to pass just now – I thank Merlin we've got Dumbledore on the Wizengamot to block her bill, but no doubt she'll find a way to get around him too."

Damocles completed the measurements for Remus's file. "Okay, Remus, that's you done here for the day – which I'm sure comes as a relief."

"Thanks very much," said Remus as Damocles walked him out of the exam room and up the corridor. Remus could see Sirius waiting on the other side of the glass doors, and he waved to him as he approached.

"That your friend?" Damocles asked him.

"Yes," said Remus, "he knows I'm a werewolf."

"That's good, too often our patients have no one to rely on." Damocles held the ward door open for Remus. "I'll see you here on Monday night for the fullmoon, and if you need anything at all, Remus, just ask me."

* * *

"So, you had a fun day out, Moony?" teased Sirius good-naturedly, as they made their way back up to the Atrium.

"Fantastic," replied Remus dryly.

"You know, you're far braver than I would be, if was you," said Sirius seriously. "I mean it – I wouldn't have the strength to have put up with all this shit, I'd probably have punched someone by now."

Remus looked at Sirius, and felt a sudden rush of gratitude towards his friend, who had stood so steadfastly by him throughout the whole of the tumultuous day.


	6. A Meeting Overheard

6.

Rain drummed a steady staccato beat against the windows of the Hospital Wing as Remus closed his Transfiguration textbook. Looking around at the empty bedsteads and assorted medical equipment, Remus became convinced that he must have spent more time in the Hospital Wing than any other Hogwarts student. If he possessed any hypochondriac tendencies he probably would would have taken up permanent residence; not many people could say they had a 'usual' bed in the infirmary.

He lifted the starched bed-sheets to have another look at the long gash on his thigh. The cut was now a smooth shiny-red, and Remus could feel a slight tingling sensation as the Dittany ointment Madam Pomfrey had applied worked to make sure no scar would remain. It was actually something close to a miracle that Remus was as scar-free as he was; Madam Pomfrey's exemplary care had never let a single mark remain. All that remained were faint silvery traces from his earliest transformations and, of course, the original bite mark curving along his shoulder and running below the collarbone. But then that would never fade.

He made a mental note to buy Madam Pomfrey a larger Christmas present than usual this year.

Yet, apart from that one gash on his thigh, the rest of Remus's body was relatively unharmed from the previous night's transformation. However, his night at the Ministry had been unsettling in a way Remus had never previously experienced nor could have predicted. He arrived at the transformation clinic in the basement of the Ministry a few hours before the moon was due to rise, having secured Professor McGonagall's permission to miss his afternoon classes. The clinic was busier than it had been when he and Sirius had visited the previous week and the corridor was filled with sharp smell of disinfectant.

After filling out another batch of forms, submitting to a brusque health check, surrendering his wand and, most humiliatingly, being fitted with a muzzle, Remus was lead into one of the small silver-mesh cages he had seen on his earlier visit with Sirius. Each werewolf was issued with a thin patient's robe from St Mungo's and placed in their own cage. Various healers lined the corridor on the other side of the mesh; some with clipboards poised to take notes, others with their wands displayed prominently on their belts lest any trouble start.

Remus sat on the floor of his cage and tried to gather his thoughts. It was getting increasingly difficult to think in words. There were no windows so he couldn't tell if night had fallen, but he could feel the usual restless feeling that he associated with the wolf. He tugged uselessly at the straps of the muzzle, but they wouldn't loosen. All around him he could hear the closing of cage doors, muttered curses from the werewolves and the hurried orders from Healers. He didn't know what to expect. He had never transformed in the company of one other werewolf let alone thirty of them. The thought excited him; he wasn't sure if that was a good thing.

After Remus had been sitting in his cage for at least an hour, he noticed a familiar figure at the far end of the corridor. He caught Damocles's eye who promptly came over to speak with him.

"Hey Remus," he had said, crouching down to his eye-level in a soothing manner that was somehow not the least bit patronising. "Everything's going to be fine. I'll be here throughout the transformation, sunrise is at 7.42 am. Once you're back to your normal state we'll patch you up a bit and then send you back to Madam Pomfrey. Do you have any questions?"

Remus shook his head. He felt oddly detached as Damocles walked away.

It was at that moment that a girl was placed in the cage next to Remus. It was impossible for him to judge her age: she looked about the same size a first-year but her manner was of someone much older. The girl caught him staring and Remus looked away in embarrassment.

"You the Hogwarts boy?" she asked, returning his gaze with a cool expression. She had startling gold eyes Remus noticed with surprise.

"Yeah, I guess I am," he said, feeling slightly awkward that he seemed to be known to the other werewolves. He guessed the girl must be about the age of a first year and, in an effort to be friendly, he had asked "Have you received your letter yet?"

The girl snorted. "Hell, I've never learnt how to hold a quill let alone write with one."

"Sorry, I–" Remus replied hastily his feelings of awkwardness doubling.

"Doesn't matter," she said, cutting him off, "you couldn't have known. Name's Natalia by the way."

"I'm Remus."

"I'm guessin' this is your first time here, Remus?" Natalia asked staring at him hard.

"Yes, it is. How did you know."

Natalia smiled, she looked suddenly a lot younger.

"'Cause you don't seem like the type that's used to being in a pack – more of a lone wolf."

"And you're not?"

Natalia shook her head. "Got picked up by a pack of other werewolves just after I was bitten. I was five. Geoff," she indicated a ragged old man a few cages away from them, "he's taken care of me."

Remus noticed that more armed Healers were beginning to take their positions in front of the cages. The tension in the air was palpable.

"How many are there in your pack?" he asked.

"Only 'bout ten or so. None o' the others want to come here 'cept me 'n' Geoff. Ministry's trying to get us to reveal their whereabouts, but we won't tell them shit."

It was as she finished talking that Remus felt the sensation of cold pin-pricks sweeping across his body, signalling the start of the transformation.

He looked across at Natalia who gave him a wry smile.

"See you on the other side, Remus."

After that, Remus's memories of the night blurred. He became overwhelmed by the scent of other animals, other _werewolves. _He felt the horribly familiar sensations of burning as his bones elongated, muscle cramp and prickling as hair began to sprout. The howls of the angry caged werewolves assaulted his ears, each fighting for their territory. Before the wolf completely took him over Remus remembered bashing repeatedly against the side of the silver cage, even though it burned, desperate to get the human blood on the other side...

He had awoken with a start in the morning. Panic swept through him as Remus looked at the unfamiliar surroundings, realising he wasn't in the Shrieking Shack. He tried to stand up on shaky legs but hit his head against the top of the cage.

"Hey, hey, hey it's okay, Remus," said Damocles in a calm voice, unlocking the cage door and passing Remus his robes.

Remus struggled to put them on, adrenaline sill coursing through him. He remembered the events of the night before and tried to calm himself with the thought that he was _supposed _to be in the cage, that he hadn't been _caught. _

He looked around at the other cages. Most of the other werewolves were still asleep having been returned to their human state. A few, like Remus, were looking dazedly around themselves trying to get their bearings, while others who were already up and dressed were staggering towards the exit. The air was thick with the smell of animals, sweat and, underneath it all, the metallic tang of blood. There were significantly fewer Healers present than there had been the night before, confirming Remus's belief that this scheme had more to do with controlling werewolves' whereabouts than actually helping with the effects of the transformation.

"Eat this," said Damocles handing Remus a cup of water and a slice of toast. "I've taken care of your cuts and everything looks fine, but you should still probably spend the afternoon in the Hospital Wing."

Remus nodded; his eyes fell on the cage next to him and to the small body huddled on the floor.

"Don't worry," said Damocles. "She's still sleeping. Natalia's a tough kid." He cleared his throat. "Look, Remus, I wanted to ask you something – you don't need to say yes right away, but would you consider it?"

He handed Remus a booklet that had the St Mungo's coat of arms emblazoned on it. _A study into the uses of Wolfsbane in the treatment and prevention of Lycanthropy _ran the title.

"It's my research proposal," Damocles said eyeing Remus nervously. "I know you've had bad experiences in the past with medical trials and the like, but I'd appreciate it if you read this over. If you felt like contributing to the research I'd be very grateful."

"I'll definitely give it a look over," Remus had hoarsely replied.

****

He was snapped out of his reverie by the sudden opening of the Hospital Wing door. Remus quickly sat up and stuffed the Damocles' research papers into the bedside drawer as Julia approached him.

"Hey, Peter told me you were up here," she said brightly, sitting down in the seat by his bedside. "I thought you might want some company. You don't mind, do you?"

"Not at all," he said, genuinely pleased. "Just as long as you aren't worried about catching the flu. Would you like some chocolate?" he indicated the impressive pile on his bedside that Madam Pomfrey had left him.

"You know, you're sick more often than anyone I've ever known." Julia said breaking off a row of chocolate.

"I've always had a weak composition, it runs in the family unfortunately."

"Well, I come bearing an important message from Her Royal Highness Janetta, and she has no patience when it comes to illness." They both shared an eye-roll of exasperation at the imperiousness of the Ravenclaw prefect.

Julia laughed, "At least she's able to keep Thicknesse under her thumb – we should be grateful for that at least. Anyway, she wants us to be on monitoring duty at morning break next week. It seems that there's some sort of squabble going on between the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor third-years and McGonagall said we should an eye on them. Will you be back in class by then?"

"Oh, I'm really feeling much better now, so I should be back in class tomorrow," Remus assured her. "Have I missed much in Muggle Studies?"

"Oh, Sirius has been taking notes for you – it's quite sweet actually."

"Well, I'll be back soon to spare you from Lily and Sirius's constant bickering," he joked.

Julia smiled. "Just having you back in class is enough if a reason to make me happy."

They continued chatting for another hour, until Madam Pomfrey pointed out that visiting hour was not until later that evening. Nevertheless, Julia's visit left Remus in a cheerful mood. Oddly, his mind cast back to the image of Natalia from that morning, huddled on the floor of her cage. He reached over and took Damocles's research proposal out of the drawer and started to read.

Hopefully Sirius will drop by soon, Remus thought as he turned the page.

***

True to his prediction to Julia, Remus was up and out of the Hospital Wing the next morning to rejoin his classmates. Sirius had indeed been taking notes for the classes he had missed over the previous two days. Despite Remus's protests Sirius insisted explaining every note at length and in such detail that he kept Remus up until the small hours of Wednesday morning, when he was sure Remus fully understood the theory behind Shield charms.

"Why is it," Remus asked as they trudged up the staircase to the dormitory, "that when you and James skip class and I try to help you catch up, I'm told I'm an overly concerned Prefect and a betrayer of Marauders everywhere, but when the roles are reversed _I _have to be bored to death by _your _incessant babbling?"

Sirius chuckled deeply in his throat. It was a warm, pleasant sound and it had been too long since Remus had last heard it.

"Don't lie to me, Remus. I know you like nothing better than to listen to my 'incessant babbling'."

Remus opened his mouth to respond, but couldn't – his mind had drawn a blank.

***

"What do you mean I should just talk to her?"

"Well, Peter, generally if you talk to someone they're liable to tell you what the problem is."

"But Mildred keeps saying nothing's wrong."

"Okay," interrupted Sirius. "I've had enough of listening to Wormtail's love-life woes, we're supposed to be on a mission here."

"Well, the Slytherins aren't even bloody here yet, so I don't see why me talking about Mildred for five minutes is going to kill you."

"Guys give it a break."

"It was _him _who–"

"Just leave it, Wormtail! Look, there they are."

The Marauders joined the queue of students in the Entrance Hall waiting to be approved for the Hogsmeade trip. A little bit ahead of them, the Slytherin gang were waiting to be signed out by Filch. Compared to all the excited, chattering students around them, the Slytherins appeared very sullen and serious. Snape caught Remus's eye, smirked and then turned to mutter something to Rosier who shot Remus his customary leer. Remus's fist clenched around his wand, but other than that he gave the Slytherins no sign that they had gotten a rise out of him.

It was the first Hogsmeade weekend of term, and therefore it was the day that the Marauders suspected the Slytherin gang would be meeting again with the Death Eaters. They had been tailing the Slytherins as much as possible since term had started, but had found no evidence of wrongdoing and with the map still being drafted their only hope was to overhear the day's meeting.

The queue steadily moved forward. The Slytherins were signed out, and soon after the Marauders were before Filch. Remus was hardly surprised that Filch took the extra precaution of triple searching Sirius and James before granting them permission – it wasn't as if he didn't have precedent. Grudgingly he ticked the Marauders off of the list.

"I'm warning you two, if I get one whiff of a dungbomb or everlasting vomit I'm going straight to the Headmaster and I won't leave his office until your expulsions are secure," Filch growled his protuberant nose very close to James's face.

"Love you, Filchy!" James teased, giving Filch a quick pat on the cheek as the Marauders hurried out of the oak doors into the grounds.

It was a clear, crisp morning and the first frost was sparkling on the grass as the Marauders tried as inconspicuously as possible to catch up to the Slytherins. The group was only a few feet ahead of the Marauders as they drew level with Hagrid's hut. At that moment a first-year darted out of the crowd behind the Marauders and joined the Slytherins. To Remus's surprise they did not attempt to shake the first-year off, but listened very intently to what the boy had to say. The Marauders saw the boy pass Snape an envelope which he tucked into the pocket of his robes.

The first-year continued to talk to the group as they neared the school gates. Try as they might, the Marauders had no hope in hearing the content of their conversation amid the racket of chattering students all around them. When the reached the gates the first-year gave Snape a swift nod, then turned to head back up to the castle. As he passed, Remus stared hard at the boy intending to commit his face to memory but the he was completely unremarkable. There were no distinctive features by which to tell him apart from the many other first-years. The only thing Remus noticed was the cold, commanding way he walked – he recognised the authority of an alpha-male in his manner, but why on earth would a first-year feel in in command of sixth years?

"What do reckon that was all about," Peter asked, wide-eyed, as they followed the well-worn track to Hogsmeade.

"Fuck knows," James said. "Who's the first-year, then?" he said turning to Sirius.

"How the hell should I know?"

"Well, Snape treated him as if he were royalty, so I presume he's a somebody."

"So, because I'm a Black I'm supposed to know every snot-nosed Slytherin?" Sirius said, aggrieved.

James said nothing, but continued to stare.

Sirius's shoulders slumped. "No, I've never seen him before."

"Well, he's definitely somebody important or else Snape wouldn't have talked to him at all," concluded Remus.

Eventually, they reached the village which was teeming with students in varying degrees of hilarity. The Marauders watched as the Slytherins entered the Three Broomsticks just as they had anticipated, and they slipped into an alleyway at the side of the pub.

"Okay, Wormtail, it's your moment to shine." James turned to Peter expectantly.

"But look at all those people in there." Peter gulped. "I could get trodden on."

"Don't be such a coward, Wormtail," snapped Sirius stepping forward threateningly.

"Sirius–" Remus began warningly, but before he could continue Peter transformed.

The small grey rat let out a defiant squeak as it circled around their feet impatiently. Remus scooped him up and gently placed him in his cloak pocket, and together they headed to the door of the pub.

The Three Broomsticks, as usual on such weekends, was very crowded. James spotted the Slytherins seated around a table in the furthest, darkest corner of the pub. Nonchalantly, the Marauders made their way to a vacant table on the opposite side of the room which afforded them a good view of the Slytherins and hopefully enough coverage to prevent them being noticed.

"I'll get us some Butterbeers," Sirius said making his way over to the bar.

As he sat down, Remus gently took Peter from his pocket and set him on the floor.

"Good luck, Wormtail," he whispered as the rat scurried across the floor towards the Slytherin table, dodging feet and chair legs as he went.

"Do you think he'll hear anything?" James asked sceptically as they watched Wormtail disappear from view.

Remus nodded faithfully. "Peter is more competent than you and Sirius give him credit for."

Sirius returned to their table, bottles of Butterbeer clinking in his hands. He passed one each to James and Remus as the door of the pub swept open and two hooded figures stepped in.

The figures lowered their hoods, revealing the darkly beautiful Bellatrix and a heavily stubbled young man. Remus saw Sirius's fists had clenched tightly around his Butterbeer, as he stared at the woman with intense dislike.

"Is that the nutter cousin who attacked Professor Phipps" asked James, "or the one who strangled her room mate's cat?"

"It was her both times," snapped Sirius, eyes following Bellatrix as she stalked haughtily over to the Slytherins. "The other one's her fiancé, Rodolphus."

They watched as Bellatrix and Rodolphus drew up two chairs and joined the Slytherins. Madam Rosmerta approached to take their drinks orders, but Bellatrix dismissed her coldly with an impatient flick of her hand. She shot daggers at Wilkes who attempted to offer her the remainder of his Butterbeer. Clearly Wilkes had not learned anything from their previous meeting, Remus thought to himself.

Snape and the others listened carefully as Bellatrix spoke to them. Try as they might, the Marauders could not hear a word of their conversation over the chatter in the busy pub; their only hope was that Peter had managed to position himself close enough to the group in his Animagus form to overhear.

To their great surprise, Snape reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew the letter he had received earlier from the first-year. He passed it over to Bellatrix, who tore the envelope open and read the contents intently. Just then Regulus, perhaps sensing he was being watched, snapped his head up and caught the Marauders watching them. He muttered something quickly to the others who broke off their conversation to stare menacingly at the Marauders.

Rodolphus said something further to the Slytherins as he and Bellatrix stood to leave.

James drained the last of his Butterbeer, about to rise to his feet. Sirius kicked him under the table. "We've got company."

The crowd seemed to part around her as Bellatrix made her way towards their table. She scowled down at them. "I see you've chosen your side, Sirius."

"Drop the act, Bella," Sirius said. "We've hated each other for years. This just makes it official."

"You'll never win."

Sirius shrugged. "Maybe not, but I've always been one to root for the underdog." A smile flashed across his face.

"Don't think you're safe just because you're pure blooded. You've tainted yourself by association. As far as the family is concerned, you don't exist."

"So she blasted me off the tapestry, did she? Next time you see her, you'll have to thank her for me," Sirius said.

"You can make light of it now, but you aren't a Black any longer. When it comes down to the end, don't think spouting '_Toujour Pur_' will save you."

Sirius scoffed. "If those are the up and coming Death Eaters, I'm not too worried. They can barely conjure a Dark Mark between them."

"You know _nothing_," Bellatrix hissed. Her hand clenched into a fist as if she were grasping her wand. "Blood-traitor."

Much to Remus's surprise, Sirius managed to hold his tongue. Only after Bellatrix was out of earshot did he mutter, "Bitch."

A few minutes after the door closed behind Bellatrix, the Slytherins too left the pub, all determinedly avoiding the Marauders' eyes. Seconds later, something small and furry darted under their table, and Remus's feet were squashed as Peter transformed back into his normal state.

"Don't transform here, Wormtail!" James gasped redundantly as Peter pushed himself up off the floor and onto the bench beside him.

"Like anyone would notice," Peter huffed, gesturing at the crowded pub. "Besides, do you _want _to hear what the Slytherins were talking about?"

"This isn't the time to be coy, Peter." Sirius drew a cigarette out of his pocket. "What are the bastards up to?"

"Well," began Peter swelling with self-importance, "the Slytherins are definitely receiving orders from the Death Eaters. Bellatrix said their work was very important to the Dark Lord's plans."

"The Dark Lord?" asked Remus.

"She means Voldemort," Sirius replied around his cigarette.

"She wants them to prove their loyalty to the Dark Lord," Peter continued. "She said their control of Hogwarts depended upon it."

"But surely they don't think they could take down Dumbledore?" James sounded sceptical. "Did they say anything else?"

"Bellatrix said that further instructions would come via the 'usual channel' whatever that is. And she asked Snape if he had any messages for her."

"That was the letter from the first-year," Remus supplied.

Peter's eyebrows raised. "I forgot about that. Rodolphus was about to ask them something, but then they noticed you guys. They didn't like the fact that you were here – they thought you were up to something."

Remus was hardly surprised. Anyone who had known the Marauders for more than five minutes knew they were always up to something.

"Are you sure they didn't mention anything else?" demanded Sirius.

"Yes," Peter answered coldly. "If you don't trust me you can spy on them yourself next time."

"Well, I bet I could–"

"Enough," interjected James, breaking up the argument before it could start. "You did a good job, Pete, well done. Come on, let's get back to the castle."

"You guys go ahead, me and Remus will catch you up," Sirius said, indicating their half-full Butterbeers. James and Peter left.

"So, what's our next step?" Remus asked as Sirius lit up another cigarette. "Must you do that Sirius? It's a disgusting habit and the Muggles say it'll kill you."

"Hah! What do Muggles know, they think _stitches_ are a good idea."

"It still stinks."

"Well, if it will help keep Verella away I'm all for it."

Remus didn't notice that Regulus had re-entered the pub until he had reached their table.

"Well, well, well I hope I'm not interrupting anything," he drawled sarcastically as he sat down in the chair that had just been vacated by James.

Sirius made an effort to keep his voice light "What do you want, Reg?"

"I just wanted to offer my congratulations." Regulus smirked as he gave Remus a once-over. "I'm glad to see you've found someone so soon, though I thought _muscular_ was more your type."

Sirius froze. The colour drained from his cheeks. He shot a quick half glance at Remus who caught the fear in his eyes.

"I don't know what you mean, Regulus."

"Oh, I think you do. Or do you not want me to let our little secret slip?"

"Are you going to explain what the hell you're talking about?" Remus demanded as Regulus continued to stare loathsomely at his older brother.

"You mean you haven't worked it out, yet," Regulus crowed, his dark eyes sparkling with malice. "Sirius is –"

_Bam!_ Regulus's chair toppled over as the blow of Sirius's fist sent him flying. There was sudden silence in the pub as everyone stared over at the scene. Madam Rosmerta, fuming, appeared at their side in an instant.

"Right, that's enough – there's nothing more to see here folks. Mr Black, I'm afraid you'll have to leave _right now_."

"Don't worry," he said, dragging Remus out of his chair too."We were just leaving."

Remus shivered in the sudden chill of the wind outside. They walked in silence out of the village. Darkness was beginning to fall, and Remus could see the silhouette of the Shrieking Shack outlined starkly against the sunset in the west. He waited until they had reached the bumpy track leading back to Hogwarts before he spoke.

"Are you going to explain to me what that was all about back there?"

"It was nothing," Sirius replied in a deadened tone.

Remus felt his own temper rise. "It clearly wasn't _nothing_, Sirius," he said angrily, grabbing onto Sirius's arm to stop him walking ahead. "Regulus is obviously holding something over you. What aren't you tell me – is this something to do with why you left home?"

"I told you, _it's nothing_."

"Oh, stop pretending!" Remus shouted. "This is me, Sirius. You can tell me whatever it is that's upset you, I'm not going to judge you."

"I've given you plenty of opportunities to keep secrets, Remus, maybe you could return me the same favour."

"Yeah, you've been great at keeping secrets – except for that one time you sent Snape under the Willow."

Sirius's expression changed to one of outrage. "You said we were past that!"

Remus ran a hand across his eyes. "_Shit_, I shouldn't have said that... Sirius just please tell me what –"

"Just fucking leave it, Remus!" Sirius yelled, voice echoing around the empty countryside.

Without a backwards glance he took off up the path towards the school, leaving Remus to his own bewildering thoughts.

_To be continued...._


	7. Epiphanies

**Author's Note:** Finally, an update! Sorry it has been so long, but an incredibly hectic year of university is at an end. This means three months of free time to write! Expect to see more frequent updates (and, dare I say it, maybe even completion of this story?)

7.

The silence hung heavy and impenetrable in the castle; it was starting to play on Remus's nerves. Completing the spell he sat back on his haunches and rubbed at a crick in his neck. He and James were drawing a tracing spell around an empty classroom on the sixth floor. The spell inscribed the room onto a large piece of parchment that was forming the basis of the Marauders' map. They had been taking it turns to spend an hour or two each night to trace around rooms for the map. So far, they had completed the upper floors and towers (with the exception of the Ravenclaw common room), and tonight he and James had been at it for over an hour. It was painfully slow work; if their wands slipped and broke the trace, the room would not be accurately represented on the map and they would have to repeat the process again. The ease with which the Marauders had been able to access unused rooms had made Remus surprised at the low level of security in the castle. The majority of classrooms and offices were left unlocked, or only protected by the most basic of security spells. He guessed that everyone was right in saying that Hogwarts was the only safe place left in the wizarding world.

A few nights ago, the Death Eaters had orchestrated a gruesome attack that had struck at the heart of everyone who still maintained the delusion that Lord Voldemort was not a serious threat to society. A series of Dark Marks had appeared simultaneously in the sky over London, sending the bewildered Aurors in disarray from false attack to false attack. Only one of the Dark Marks signalled a genuine attack, and due to the Aurors delayed response in reaching the house, a family of Muggles died. Nobody yet knew if the false Dark Marks were part of the planned attack, or if they were sent up by Death Eater sympathisers. The Ministry was barely keeping control of the chaos; so many Muggles had witnessed the blatant magic in the sky, causing a breach in the International Statute of Secrecy. That morning's _Daily Prophet _had reported that the Minister of Magic, Edmir Gillespie, was facing a coup from his own government, it was likely that the end of the week would see a new Minister in place. Why the Ministry was deliberately adding to the sense of panic in the community by ousting their own leader in such a perilous time was beyond Remus. But at least they were safe from it all in Hogwarts.

Beside him, James completed his trace and paused to take a break. He lay back heavily on the stone floor and stretched out his cramping muscles. He looked at his watch.

"We'll just finish up this room and call it a night," he said around a huge yawn.

"Sirius should be back by the time we return," Remus said as he sat down next to James. "He said they were only going to be away for the day."

The previous week Sirius had received a letter from his uncle Alphard who had arranged to take him out of school that Sunday in light of his upcoming birthday. It seemed that Sirius was not the only Black who could charm anyone to their will, and Remus was surprised that Dumbledore had given Sirius permission to go on the outing. Nevertheless, it was probably good for Sirius to spend time around a family member that wouldn't hurl abuse at him.

James had been watching Remus think. "I'm guessing it's not just me who thinks Sirius has been acting oddly lately," he said. "He hasn't said anything to you about it, has he?"

"No," said Remus. He hadn't meant it to come out sounding as bitter as it did. He and Sirius had barely exchanged more than a few words since the disastrous ending of their recent Hogsmeade trip.

"I guessed you guys had had a fight... He's just not as open with me as he used to be, it's like he's hiding something but I can't tell what it is."

Thinking back to Regulus's taunts in the Three Broomsticks, Remus thought he had a pretty good idea about what exactly Sirius was hiding, but he wasn't going to say anything to James until he had more concrete proof.

"I mean," James continued, "it can't just be about his mother wanting him to marry some pureblood. She's always been a persistent bitch and he's never let it get to him before."

"Maybe he's finding it more difficult to shrug it off than before, I mean, Christ James, he ran away over the summer," replied Remus. "It's no wonder really that he's still acting weird. Think about what you'd be like if it was you."

"I guess," said James but he still looked unconvinced.

"How's things going with Lily," Remus asked, eager not to talk about Sirius anymore and knowing that this was the one subject that James could ramble forever about.

"She's great," he said with an almost rapturous expression on his face. Remus briefly wondered what it be like to be so enamoured by another person. "I mean she's still putting up a fight, but I think her resolve is weakening. I've been really trying, you know, to be more mature and all that. Hell, I've even read all of those dreary Marcella Crouch novels you and she both love so much, but sometimes I feel it's just not getting me anywhere. I mean, it's just taking a lot longer than I expected."

Remus knew James well enough to know that he was more disappointed than he was letting on.

"I think you're doing everything right, James," he said encouragingly. "You have been talking more... _civilly _to each other than you used to, and I can tell Lily appreciates it. Maybe you should just try and be yourself around her."

"Yeah, maybe," said James thoughtfully. The remained in companionable silence for a few moments before he spoke again. "My mum's been panicking about all this Dark Mark shit. She's written letters to the Minister and Dumbledore, but I can' see what good she expects to get from it."

"At least she's taking some action," Remus replied. "Sometimes I feel like my parents don't even know there's a war coming. They've completely insulated themselves from everything that's been going on."

"Well, maybe that's okay. After all it will be us fighting, not them." It was such statements that reminded Remus why James was the unspoken leader of the Marauders. He had the ability to strengthen nerves without sugar-coating a situation.

"We've still not found out who that Slytherin first year is, either," he reminded Remus. "Why does Snape's lot have so much respect for him and how is he able to pass messages to _Bellatrix Lestrange _of all people? I doubt he's from old pureblood stock if Sirius doesn't recognise him."

Remus frowned. "_Would _Sirius really recognise him, though? He hates all that family stuff, how much attention would he really have paid to some random kid?"

James shook his head. "Don't let him fool you, Remus. He hates them but he makes sure he knows everything about them."

"Nevertheless, it looks like the only way we'll be able to find out his identity is by getting the student register. And that means breaking into McGonagall's office."

James's eyes lit up at the prospect of mischief. "Well, for that we'll need a spectacular prank. What if –"

He broke off suddenly. There was sounds of movement in the corridor outside.

In unison the boys pointed their wands at the lamps on the walls and whispered "_Nox_". They froze in their positions, hardly daring to breathe. The steps were too brisk for Filch, and there was none of his usual accompanying wheeze. As the steps faded down the corridor the boys crept to the door. Peering around the door-frame they saw an unfamiliar tall man with dark hair and an emerald cloak disappearing around the corner at the end of the corridor. Re-igniting the lamps, they looked at one another with raised eyebrows.

James smiled grimly. "Something strange is going on around here."

* * *

The next morning, Remus awoke abruptly from his peaceful slumbering to find his bed spinning around furiously.

"What the hell!" he cried, trying to focus on something as the dormitory whirled in a blur of colour around him. From across the room he heard similar strangled cries from Peter and James as they awoke. From the centre of the room he heard familiar guffawing.

"Sirius, stop spinning my bed or I swear I'll spew all over you!" The threat seemed to do the trick for after a few seconds his bed became stationary once more, as did Peter and James's.

"Good morning, Marauders," Sirius cried in a sing-song voice that was several times more irritable due to the early hour of the morning. "Now, do you all know what day it is?"

"The day I try out that new ball-crushing jinx on my best friend?" James grumbled, lobbing his pillow at Sirius's head.

"Wrong!" smirked Sirius, vanishing James's pillow into thin air with a casual flick of his wand. "It's my birthday!"

"So soon?" said Remus, sitting up blearily. "The common room still hasn't recovered from the aftermath of last year's party."

"Those chairs were old, they needed to be replaced anyway. My party just sped up the process. Come on, get up! We must breakfast like kings."

Remus was sure he heard Peter mumble something that sounded like "fucking insufferable git" into his pillow.

Grudgingly, the other three boys got out of bed and started to get dressed for the day – a practise that was made considerably more difficult due to the fact that the now of age Sirius kept making their clothes fly out of their hands before they could put them on. After losing his third set of robes to this supposed joke, Remus pointed out irritably to Sirius that he could have used this magic inside Hogwarts at any point in the last six years, regardless that he was now seventeen.

Evidently, Sirius had returned from his trip to London with his uncle in much better spirits. He just laughed at Remus and returned his robes, it seemed that their disagreement of last week had been forgotten. He was behaving far more like the Sirius of old than the surly version Remus had been putting up with for the last few months. As the Marauders made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast, Sirius excitedly told them that his uncle Alphard had given him a flat in London for his birthday. Not only that, but since his family had not officially disinherited him yet, Sirius now had access to his share of the Black family fortune. His family could no longer legally take away his access rights without going to trial. The news that Sirius would never have to return to Grimmauld Place again put the four boys in such high spirits that they practically bounded into the Great Hall.

Seconds after they had crossed the threshold, Sirius was accosted by a mane of blonde hair and a shriek of "_Happy birthday, _Sirius, darling." Snickering heartily, the other three boys made their way to the Gryffindor table, leaving Sirius to fend off the incorrigible Verella.

"Morning, Remus" said Julia brightly as they passed her.

"Moony, you need to ask that girl out before she explodes from unrequited feelings," said James insistently. "I don't want Julia-bits in my cereal."

Remus smiled to himself as he took his seat and pulled the jug of milk towards him.

"Good morning, Evans," James said politely, as if it was a coincidence that he had chosen the seat across from Lily.

Lily looked up from her paper, "Good morning, Potter. I thought you guys never left a loyal comrade behind," she said nodding over to Sirius and Verella, who seemed to be doing her best to imitate a giant squid ensnaring its prey."

"After his actions this morning he more than deserves it," James assured her.

Lily had been about to reply when a familiar greasy figure appeared behind her.

"Lily, can I have a word with you," Snape asked in an undertone, deliberately avoiding eye contact with any of the Marauders.

"Can't you see I'm in the middle of breakfast, Severus?" Lily replied coolly, not turning around to meet his eye.

A pinkish tinge rose on Snape's sallow cheeks. "Maybe later then?"

"Can't you see she doesn't want to talk to you, you greasy git," James interjected.

Snape's eyes met James's with a murderous expression, but before the argument could even begin Lily spoke.

"Is this any of _your _business, Potter? Severus, I can meet you after Transfiguration but I have to go see Professor Phipps about my essay result before lunch."

"Okay," said Snape, looking relieved. He stalked away not glancing back at James who was fuming.

"Why do you still talk to that prejudiced bastard?"

"Which one?"

"Look, _I_ am nowhere near as foul as _him_. He called you a – a – a _you-know-what_! Don't you remember?"

"Yes, Potter, I remember. I also remember it was _your _despicable actions that provoked Severus into saying that stuff. You're not always as noble as you seem to think you are."

With a final angry glare at James, Lily stuffed her newspaper into her bag and left the Hall.

An awkward silence fell at the table. Remus was glad for the distraction when the post owls swooped in overhead. To his happy surprise he recognised his parents' owl, Tiberus, amongst the throng and cleared a space on the table for him. Tiberus had just landed as Sirius squeezed himself onto the bench beside Remus, finally free from the clutches of Verella.

"What's up?" he asked, piling potato scones onto his plate.

"Snivellus," grunted James.

"I thought I saw Evans stalk off. The great plan working well, then?"

"Fuck off," said James, sounding more defeated than angry, though he did cut up his bacon with more violence than Remus thought was strictly necessary.

Rolling his eyes, Sirius turned to Remus. "Who's the letter from?"

"My parents. They're going to Rome over the Christmas break. My mum's been dreaming about going there for years, so it looks like I'll be staying here over the holidays."

"No you won't!" said Sirius happily. "Didn't I say earlier? You're all invited to come and stay at my place at Christmas. It'll be great, we can probably all get into those clubs on Diagon Alley now and we can live up the city life."

James looked upset. "I'm sorry, mate, that sounds really great but my great-aunt Ethel's coming from Denmark to visit us over the holidays. My mum would do her nut in if I'm not there. I can probably wangle to come over for a night or two, but not the whole holiday."

"And my mum wouldn't be happy either," said Peter in a small voice, staring into his cereal bowl as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. "I can't leave her on her own over Christmas."

Sirius did his best to look as if he was unaffected by their responses. "Oh, that's all right, it was just a thought." Nevertheless he still looked disheartened.

"I'll still be able to come," Remus said, nudging him gently in the ribs. "That is if you still want to spend your holiday with a taciturn werewolf."

Sirius gave him a wide smile, emphasising his Black good looks. "Of course I do. Cheers Remus."

* * *

The day's classes passed quickly. Remus was happy with his progress now that he had finally caught up with the other Marauders in regards to human transfiguration, but it was a small consolation in the face of the sixth years' ever increasing workload. With four essays all due at the end of the week, Remus was working flat out just to keep afloat and doing his level best to ignore Sirius's attempts to divert his attention from his work. Sirius, of course, would not start a single essay until the night before they were due, and would still end up with better grades than Remus.

Not that Remus was jealous or anything.

He had, much to his relief, been able to get his monitoring book from the Werewolf Rehabilitation Scheme signed by his professors without his classmates noticing. Professor Dumbledore had let Remus's professors in on the secret of his Lycanthropy the day Remus returned from his first visit to the Ministry. Thankfully, none of his teachers took the news badly, Professor Phipps had even given him a box of Muggle chocolates. With tears in her eyes she expressed her most heartfelt sympathy for Remus's condition. The teachers were all very discrete about signing the book, and though Remus didn't think any of his classmates had noticed anything unusual, he still looked around nervously each time he handed the book over. In fact most of the professors, Professor McGonagall in particular, had expressed outrage over the whole procedure Remus was being put through. From the comments she had made whilst signing his reports, Remus had surmised that McGonagall and Umbridge had been at Hogwarts together and that she had no more love for the old toad than Remus had. He diligently owled the monitoring reports to the Ministry at the end of each day as he had been instructed, and his parents had received the first of the promised monthly subsidies at the end of last week. Money that was now being cautiously spent on a much needed holiday to Rome.

Sitting in the Common Room after dinner, it seemed to Remus that anything was more interesting that his impending Defence Against the Dark Arts essay (_Discuss the different uses of jinxes throughout history, with focus on the goblin riots of the seventeenth century, and assess the critique that the use of protective jinxes is feasible_). Instead, he lost himself in thought, going over in his head what they had overheard from the Death Eater's meeting in Hogsmeade, and the possible identity of the mysterious Slytherin first year.

Across the table James met his eye. "Are you thinking about how we can break into McGonagall's office?"

"What we need," said Remus, abandoning the pretence of working on his essay, "is a diversion."

"Well, that's our speciality," said Sirius, sitting forward and rubbing his hands together in a gleeful manner. "We haven't wound up old Minerva in a while."

"You got detention from her last week," Peter reminded him.

"Oh, that was just foreplay, Wormtail."

"Eew, you want to shag McGonagall?" Peter said, just as a lull of silence fell in the common room. A group of nearby fourth years turned around to stare at the Marauders. Sirius just flashed them a smile and waved jauntily.

'What can I say? The woman's still got it."

"Anyway," said James, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. "We have to get McGonagall out of her office unexpectedly, so she doesn't have time to put the security spells on it."

"An explosion?" suggested Peter.

"Nah, we're out of Filibusters. Besides, we don't want people to say we're becoming formulaic."

"Peeves?" Remus proposed.

"No," said Sirius. "Last time we enlisted him he ended up reneging on us half way through, remember?"

They lapsed into a thoughtful silence.

"I've got it," exclaimed James suddenly, "and if it works we can land Snivellus in detention while we're at it."

* * *

Later that same evening the Common Room became packed with people for Sirius's birthday party. As with previous years it promised to be a wild night. Sirius and Peter had spent the last two weeks persuading the house elves to let them smuggle as much food and alcohol as they could from the kitchens. The Marauders bathroom had been beginning to like a particularly seedy bar, with the amount of liquor bottles that had been crammed into it. The whole of Gryffindor had turned out to celebrate, as well as many students from Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. Even Verella, accompanied by one of her surly girl friends, had appeared. Thankfully for Sirius the large crowd meant he could easily avoid her.

With the copious amounts of alcohol flowing freely, it wasn't long before the high-jinx started. In one corner of the room a boisterous game of truth or dare had started up with the objective being, as far as Remus could see, to snog as many of the fellow players as possible. Another group were dancing (well, Remus supposed that was what all the unsequential flailing was meant to be), and in the centre of the room Sirius and his old beater partner, Bertie Russell, were standing on top of one of the rickety tables with some unknown girls' underpants on their heads. They were drunkenly holding each other up, singing tunelessly to the music blaring out to the common room's old gramophone to admiring cheers. Remus was watching the performance with much amusement, when from across the room he noticed Julia looking at him. He was smiling back at her when, from nowhere, James appeared behind him.

"For Merlin's sake, Moony, go over there and snog her," he cried, giving Remus a sharp shove in the back.

Stumbling slightly, Remus made his way through the throng to Julia.

"Hi."

"Hi, Remus." Julia reached out to take his hand. "Let's go somewhere quieter," she said, dragging him over to a secluded corner of the common room behind a conveniently placed statue of Godric Gryffindor.

"I really like you, Remus." She clasped her hands behind his neck as Remus's brain finally caught up with the situation. He didn't know what exactly was in the punch he'd been drinking all night, but he was certainly feeling very free, surprising himself when his arms wrapped themselves around Julia's waist, bringing their bodies together.

The kiss wasn't exactly mind-blowing. In fact, it rather mirrored all of Remus's other, though admittedly limited, experience with girls; he acted mechanically to the point that it almost felt as if he were performing a chore. Rather than compounding his feelings for Julia, it confirmed something in Remus's heart that he had been doing his best over the years to ignore.

However, before any more epiphanies could reveal themselves to Remus, the portrait hole suddenly swung open. As planned, all traces of alcohol were automatically vanished and sobriety spells executed, the gramophone switched itself off and the whole common room turned with innocent expressions to face Professor McGonagall.

Remus was sure he saw the Professor's mouth almost twitch into a smile at the scene before her. Sirius and Bertie were still underwear clad on the tabletop, reeling from their sudden, unexpected sobriety.

"Really, Mr Black," began McGonagall exasperatedly, "I do wish you many happy returns, but it is a school night and not only have you kept all of Gryffindor up until two in the morning, but also Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw it seems." Before any one had a chance to protest, McGonagall stepped back and held the portrait hole open. "Bed, everyone," she said with such finality that no one dared disobey.

Remus hurriedly extracted his arms from Julia's waist. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said, quickly joining the crowd that was heading back to their dormitories.

"Okay, Remus." Julia looked slightly dismayed.

As he entered the dormitory, James gave a whooping cheer and slapped him on the back.

"That's my boy," he cried, a stupidly patronising grin on his face.

"Really James, I have snogged someone before."

"I know Moony, but it's just Julia's a great girl. I approve."

Remus pretended to wipe a tear of gratitude from his eye. "It's your approval I've been waiting for all along James," he said, not without sarcasm.

Sirius laughed from across the room, where he was digging around under his bed for something. Springing back to his feet, he clutched a full bottle of Firewhiskey. The pink pants were still pulled over his head.

"_Whose_ knickers are they?" asked Peter

"Your mum's," replied Sirius, not missing a beat. "C'mon," he indicated the window, "the night's still young boys."

James groaned. "Don't you think we've had enough by now?"

"Hey," exclaimed Sirius, shaking the bottle of golden alcohol under James's nose, "me and Pete spent a great amount of money and effort persuading those house elves to get us this alcohol. Besides, thanks to McGonagall I'm now completely sober, and so are you lot – that's no way to end a night. Drinking contest!"

"You should know better by now than to challenge a werewolf to a drinking contest," said Remus. "Last time you did you ended up lying in your own sick singing that song about a goblin."

"No I didn't!"

"Yes you did," laughed the other three boys in unison.

"Alright, firstly, you two," he indicated James and Peter, "had already passed out by that point, and secondly, I can't even remember the words to that song when I'm sober. Now, come on, let's get pissed."

And that is how the Marauders ended up on the roof of Gryffindor Tower at four in the morning, watching the dawn slowly break from behind the furthest reaches of the forbidden forest. Remus lay on his back as, one after another, the stars slowly faded from view. The Firewhisky had given him the disconcerting sensation that he was floating, and he gripped onto Sirius's arm next to him to make sure he didn't fly away.

Slurring slightly, Sirius began singing. "See the little goblin, see his little feet. And his little nosey-wose isn't the goblin sweet? Hurrah!"

James and Peter had clambered off the roof back into the dormitory about half an hour ago – a memory that was sure to make Remus regret their drunken foolhardiness in the morning. The light coming from the east was giving him a headache, so he rolled over to face Sirius and the still dark sky behind him.

"You look ridiculous," he said, indicating the underwear still on Sirius's head. With a surprisingly graceful movement, Sirius swept the knickers from his head and together the boys watched as they sailed across the battlements and out of sight.

Sirius looked over at him, nudging Remus in the ribs teasingly. "_So_, how was it?"

There was no need to ask what he was talking about – the two of them could carry out whole conversations without any specific references. They knew each other so well by now that it was unnecessary, the meanings seemed to flow between them without needing to be said.

"It was..." Remus searched for the right word. "Boring."

Sirius gave a small smile. "Well, maybe you've just not found the right person yet."

"But I wonder what it's like with you?" Remus said.

Sirius gave him a startled look.

"I mean," continued Remus, trying to organise his alcohol soaked thoughts into some semblance of order. "I mean what's it like when you're with girls?"

Sirius looked taken aback. "It's – it's –– it's, I dunno. I mean it's good – it just kind of happens I guess, I don't really put too much thought into it."

Remus had the distinct feeling Sirius wasn't being entirely truthful. He was about to ask another, more pressing question when Sirius reached into the pocket of his robes and withdrew a small package wrapped in brown paper.

"Here," he said. "This is for you."

Remus took the parcel, perplexed. "It's not my birthday 'til March."

"I know that," Sirius said exasperatedly. "Can't a guy get his friend a gift without it being a big deal?"

"Not when the last gift the guy gave the particular friend was cologne that made him smell like an overripe Dungbomb."

"That was a joke – how many times do I have to tell you? Oh, look just open it already, will you."

Gingerly, Remus tore off the packaging to reveal a small leather-bound volume entitled _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_.

Remus opened the book to the first page and read _"I had never told anyone I was a werewolf until it was too late..."_

"I saw it in Diagon Alley yesterday," Sirius mumbled quietly. "And I just thought you would like it. I guess I wanted to remind you you're not alone. And that the Ministry are bastards."

"Thank you, Sirius," said Remus, feeling greatly touched.

Sirius shrugged, "It's nothing."

The pale sun had fully risen now above the Forbidden Forest where the birds had started singing. Below them, the lawn was sparkling with dew.

"I'm sorry I've been such a moody git," Sirius said, apropos of nothing.

"You mean today or the last six years?" teased Remus.

"Today, last week, all of it – I'm sorry I've been such a pain."

Remus could see where this conversation was headed and sought to put a stop to it once and for all.

"Look, I forgive you for the whole Snape-Willow thing, okay? I should never have brought it up last week. It's in the past, let's not talk about it anymore... Whatever Regulus is holding over you on the other hand –"

"I don't want to talk about that. Not tonight, Remus, please."

"I wish you'd just tell me what the problem is. I'd keep it to myself."

Sirius gave a rueful smile. "Yes, I rather think you would. Anyway," he gestured to the book, "that's my I'm-sorry-I've-been-such-an-arse gift to you. Next time I'll bring flowers."

The were quiet for a while. Remus closed his eyes and emptied his mind of all thought except for the joyous chorus of birdsong.

"You know," said Sirius after a while, "people are really scared out there. In Diagon Alley, it was so strange – no one talks to each other anymore and most of the shops are boarded up. It's like Voldemort has sucked the life out of the place."

"Are you scared?" Remus asked.

"No. It's just the same shit my parents tried to make me believe – they didn't succeed and neither will Lord Voldemort."

"Come on," said Remus, sitting up. "We should go – it'll be time for breakfast soon."

* * *

Later that same week, the Marauders put their plan to break into McGonagall's office into action. James and Sirius had contrived to goad Snape into such a bad temper with them that it would bring McGonagall running from her office. It wasn't exactly their most inventive plan to date, but James was still furious with Snape about the conversation with Lily the other morning and wanted revenge.

Suppressing his guilt at his friends' continued persecution of Snape, Remus and Peter faithfully snuck into McGonagall's office, after she hurried to investigate the source of the shouting emanating from the floor above. Remus headed over to the Professor's desk while Peter took his position as the lookout.

They knew from past break-ins to McGonagall's office that the Professor filed all her documents very carefully. Everything was labelled correctly and organised chronologically – very helpful for an intruding Marauder. Remus quickly found the list of all first year students who had been due to enrol in the start of the year, and muttered the spell to make a duplicate copy. Taking care to leave everything the way he had found it, he and Peter swiftly left the office making their way down the corridor in the opposite direction to the source of all the commotion.

* * *

Half an hour later, after James and Sirius had returned with freshly served detentions, the Marauders carefully scanned through the list of names and accompanying photos of enrolled students. Upon reaching the end of the list, Remus caught James's eye: he looked as bewildered as Remus felt.

"That can't be right," declared Sirius, snatching the list from Remus and going back to the beginning again.

"What is it?" asked Peter.

Remus looked over at him.

"The first year is not on the list of enrolled students."

_To be continued (very soon)..._


End file.
